Continuation of the Journal of Marian Hawke
by ugobananas
Summary: My take on the wonderful The Journal of Marian Hawke (/s/6854148/1/The-Journal-of-Marian-Hawke). I couldn't stand not knowing the end, so I decided to take it on myself, picking up where the author had left off. Follow the rocky relationship of Fenris and Hawke (with no shortage of adventure), loosely following the events of DA2. Rated M for violence, language, and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **I recently finished reading The Journal of Marian Hawke ( s/6854148/1/The-Journal-of-Marian-Hawke) by user lotusflwr. It has been left unfinished since 2011 and I was so wrapped up in it, it was a profound disappointment to not know how it ends. I decided to pick it up myself and see where I can take it - more for me than for anyone, but I hope others out there find it enjoyable as well. The original author has a style already similar to my own, so I made my best effort to try to keep the flow and make it feel like the same story.

This picks up right where the original story left off (Chapter 38). My plan is to finish this story, taking it to the end of the first act of the game, and then follow up with sequels for acts two and three.

Feedback is very much welcome! Thanks so much for your work, lotusflwr, and if you ever return to finish the original, it can't be soon enough!

**Update 3/20/15: **Fixed a few formatting and grammatical errors; nothing of substance has changed.

* * *

Hawke wandered slowly through the open cavern in the Deep Roads, the glow of lyrium veins far in the distance. Her steps felt heavy. Forced. The camp was empty, the tents were gone, and where there were once fires now lay piles of cold ashes. The blackness was crushing down on her as she tried to quicken her pace, reaching toward the orange glow of a side passage that seemed years away.

A sudden noise behind her made her skin crawl. Slowly turning she saw dozens – no, hundreds – of yellow glowing eyes in the darkness behind her. A slow, steady hissing noise began to rise, along with the loud skittering sounds of far too many feet, as the eyes grew larger, nearer. Hawke tried to cry out but couldn't catch her voice. Her throat was parched and her tongue was like sandpaper. The most she could manage was a soft gasp as she turned to run, her feet heavier than ever. Her long, slow strides barely carrying her ahead of the unknown creatures behind her. Suddenly a soft bluish-white glow appeared ahead of her; the silhouette of a man. _Fenris._ Her heart raced. _Thank the Maker._

Again she tried to cry out, to call his name. "Fenris…" she whispered hoarsely. She knew he could not hear her. The silhouette turned and began running away from her – from the creatures behind her. _No! _ _He can't see me. He doesn't know I'm here. _Her heart raced even quicker as the sounds behind her grew louder.

Then she heard him, calling down each side passage that he passed. "Marian?...MARIAN!" She tried to cry out again but suddenly felt pressure on her shoulder. They had reached her. She was paralyzed. "Fenris…" she whispered again as darkness begin closing in.

"Marian…" She could barely hear him now. She glanced up and saw only the glow of yellow eyes…

* * *

"Marian." Fenris quietly spoke her name again, pushing gently against her shoulder. _How anyone can sleep this deeply_…

"Fenris," she gasped as she shot up on the bedroll, drenched in sweat, her heart still racing as she took large, heaving breaths of air. Fenris jumped back a little, resting on his heels, thoroughly startled. Hawke caught his movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced over. The realization of what had really occurred flooded her body with relief.

"Are you…are you all right?" he ventured cautiously, unsure of himself.

She slowly caught her breath as her heartrate began to drop. "Yes." Her voice was hoarse, as it had been in her dream. Instinctively he reached for her waterskin and handed it to her. A whispered "thanks" was all she could manage.

His brow furrowed as he searched her face for the truth. _She does not look all right to me. I've never seen her like this before, so…shaken._

A few moments passed soundlessly when Hawke finally spoke up, her voice clearer now and her confidence returning as the last memories of her nightmare faded.

"I suppose it's my turn to take watch." It was a statement rather than a question; Fenris didn't respond, still confused by the state she'd been in only minutes before. She pulled herself up off the bedroll momentarily forgetting that she was wearing only her under padding. Her back was to Fenris and she squeezed her eyes closed as she realized her mistake. _I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to…the last thing I need is to make him even more upset with me or my attempts to push him further than he's ready to go. _She quickly composed herself and moved toward her armor.

Fenris had indeed taken notice of her attire and his thoughts spun even further into confusion. He glanced up and could see only the backs of her bare legs, rising up to meet the start of her ample bottom that, from his angle, was just barely exposed by her short under armor. His throat felt suddenly parched and he turned his gaze away to pick up the waterskin that Hawke had just used. _I know her decision was one of practicality alone, but this is not helping my resolve._

Standing quickly, Fenris cleared his throat, "The camp has been unguarded too long. I'll step outside and keep watch until you're ready." Silently, he slipped out through the tent flaps before Hawke had a chance to respond. Too tired to run through what had just happened, Hawke methodically dressed in her armor and pulled on her boots. She brushed through her hair quickly with her fingers, not really caring how it appeared at that point.

She grabbed up her waterskin and sheathed her daggers, stepping out of the tent. Fenris was standing a few yards away, back to her. He turned around at the familiar jingle of her armor, unable to make out her expression in the dark.

"I'm all set," she said, forcing a smile. "You can get some sleep now." He nodded and moved toward the tent as she stepped out of his way, giving him a wide berth. He had noticed and a lump formed in his throat. _She's giving me space. But that's what I asked for, I suppose. _Regret began to creep in but then he recalled the events of the morning and clenched his fists, entering the tent with a fresh determination to concentrate on the expedition and nothing else.

* * *

The rustle of hirelings awakening and the sound of pots and pans clattering from within the mess tent signaled to Hawke that the night was finally over. She sighed in relief, exhaustion taking over her. _I've never wanted sleep more in my life._ She groaned to herself, knowing it would be more than twelve hours until she would have the opportunity. _At least I know I'll be able to quickly fall asleep tonight._ It was a cold comfort. She made one last loop around the camp as she headed toward the mess, her stomach suddenly reminding her how hungry she was.

The increase in ambient sound woke Fenris from his sleep. He absentmindedly squeezed his outstretched hand, his heart dropping as he remembered she was not there. Despite how little sleep he'd gotten, he was quickly awake and alert, falling into his morning routine – without Hawke.

Back at the mess, Hawke was devouring her second bowl of porridge, surprised at her appetite. The sudden bellow of Bartrand's voice from across the camp caused her to jump, "VARRIC. Get your lazy arse out of bed; we're ready to move in one hour or you lose your cut." His voice had become so grating recently that it made her stomach immediately feel ill and she gave up the rest of her breakfast, pushing the bowl as far away from her as she could manage. _This expedition can't end soon enough. I honestly don't know how Varric hasn't killed his brother with his bare hands yet…_

Fighting her exhaustion, she headed back to her tent to wash, struggling with her nerves at the thought of encountering Fenris. She didn't need to worry, however; he was nowhere in sight. She was about to go hunt down a bucket when she noticed one already sitting outside the tent, filled with fresh water. She smiled to herself, though she felt more sad than happy.

The camp was a-bustle that morning as Bartrand was somehow even more on edge than the previous day. His behavior was becoming erratic and it was beginning to cause Hawke concern. Something was clearly wrong but she was in no position to inquire. When she had asked Varric earlier that morning, he shrugged, muttering something about stone up his ass. Hawke had noticed Fenris at one point heading to the mess tent, but that was her only sight of him that morning until the caravan was ready to move forward.

Bartrand had the group position themselves at the front and rear of the caravan again, given his fears from the previous day. Hawke and Fenris were to take up the lead, with Varric and Anders watching the flank. Fenris kept himself always several yards ahead of Hawke and she was too tired to attempt to do anything about it.

The day was largely uneventful, other than a few encounters with more giant spiders. Hawke did notice that Fenris continued to use his powers during these fights which gave her a little hope – but not much. Between those few encounters, her concentration was on her bedroll. Despite the hard ground and the hot air, she could think of little else. _Just a few more hours, Marian. Then you can sleep. I pray to Andraste that last night's dreams will not come again…nor the previous night's, for that matter. _She shuddered involuntarily, noticing Fenris glance back in concern.

She looked up and briefly caught his gaze, "Tired." She smiled weakly. He nodded, "You should get to bed early tonight." And with that brief suggestion he was marching ahead again. Though his words were short, there was still a warmness them, which helped her feel a little more relaxed.

Again the group did not stop for lunch but walked and ate. Everyone was silent, only the creaking and groaning of wagons and the occasional snort from the oxen could be heard with the shuffling of feet echoing in the cavern.

As the hours passed Hawke found it more and more difficult to push herself. At long last she heard Bartrand announce to the hirelings that it was time to start setting up camp again. For once, she welcomed the sound of his voice.

She and Fenris set up the tent in silence, both too tired and too uncertain of the other to try to start any kind of conversation. Fenris gathered the buckets for washing and indicated to her that she could wash up first. She uttered a brief "thanks" and didn't even try to argue with him. She wanted to simply fall asleep right then and there but knew it would be unwise to skip a meal. She also knew she wouldn't want to miss her tea again that night unless she wanted to have to deal with even more problems during the expedition. _The men have no idea how easy they have it. _She frowned to herself.

She didn't even bother making an effort to conceal her actions as she prepared the tea and brought it to the dinner table – she was too irritable from a lack of sleep to care. She gingerly set the cup on the table, having caught her second wind at last, and sat down. Varric, Anders, and Fenris were already seated – Fenris on his second helping of stew. Anders glanced at the cup and gave her a stern and knowing nod, assuming that it was his lecture that resulted in her decision to drink her tea again. She rolled her eyes and he turned away.

Varric leaned forward and gave it a sniff, crinkling his nose, "Andraste's ass, Hawke – what is that foul-smelling shit you drink every night?" Not missing a beat, she responded curtly, "It's to prevent me from bleeding out." Anders, in the middle of a swig of ale, nearly choked as he burst out laughing at her sudden frankness. Varric shook his head as her meaning sunk in, "Too much information, Hawke." She shrugged, continuing to maintain a straight face. "You asked."

Fenris was silent and Hawke was afraid to glance up to see if he had been paying attention to the conversation – she was beginning to regret her remark. Finally she mustered the courage to peak at him from under her eyelashes. He was still looking down at his meal, but there was an unmistakable smirk on his face as Varric continued to mumble in disgust at Hawke's pronouncement. _At least he still enjoys my awful sense of humor._ The thought made her nearly giddy, but she knew it was just the lack of sleep that caused the sudden surge of elation. Things had not yet improved between them.

She continued to eat in silence, listening to Anders and Varric bicker over who would get to take first watch that night. Fenris finished his third helping just as Sandal ran up to gather his bowls, staring again at his markings. He was too tired to notice or respond to his impertinent questions about "enchantment" and "shinies." He left the table so quickly and quietly that Hawke didn't notice until she had finished eating. Her heart sunk. She hoped maybe a little light-hearted conversation would help ease the tension from yesterday morning. _I can't believe that was only yesterday. It seems like years ago. Maker's balls I need sleep… _Her second wind was fading fast.

Varric quickly shifted Bianca out of the way as Hawke stood and squeezed past him. Her head felt light and her feet felt heavy as she dragged herself toward the tent. She pulled back the tent flaps cautiously, but realized she didn't need to – Fenris was fast asleep. She was too tired to even revel in the fact that he had his shirt off again. She didn't blame him, actually. The cavern had grown very hot as they drew closer to the lava flows. She had a quick mental battle with herself as she glanced down at her normal nightwear, already feeling sweaty under the fabric. _If I sleep in my smallclothes…Fenris will definitely wake up first. I don't want to complicate things more._ She grew agitated. _This is unfair. I should be able to be comfortable. _That's when she noticed his black silk shirt folded neatly in the corner of the tent. _He _did _say I could wear it if I wanted to…dammit. I want to get sleep tonight. _She hurriedly stripped down to her underthings, removing her breast band. She snatched up his shirt and pulled it over her head. Hawke paused for a moment as his scent filled her nostrils. _No, Marian. Stop._ She shook her head and began buttoning the shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone.

The shirt fell down to her mid-thigh and she had to roll the sleeves up quite a bit, but it was far cooler than her normal attire – and certainly more modest than her smallclothes. She haphazardly tossed her clothing into a pile in the corner and stretched herself out on her bedroll, shifting onto her side with her back to Fenris. Her cloak was folded next to her in case she grew cold during the night – something she greatly doubted as sweat began beading on the back of her neck under her thick hair. She reached back and twisted her hair up and away from her neck to rest on the bedroll behind her head, sighing contentedly as her neck began to cool. It was only moments later that she surrendered to a long-awaited sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Don't worry, the action will pick up soon. I wanted to resolve a few things that had not yet been resolved in the original work before moving on to the real action. Still, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Updated 3/20/15: **Added a/n and fixed a few formatting and grammatical errors. Nothing of substance has changed.

* * *

The heat of the tent woke Fenris earlier than he would have liked. _I really hope Bartrand is right and that this is a sign that we've nearly reached the thaig. _He pressed on his eyelids, his vision still blurry in the dark of the tent. The familiar orange glow slowly filled his eyes and he glanced up at Hawke, her back facing him. He immediately froze. _She's wearing my shirt._ His heartbeat picked up and his mind reeled. He lay there on his side staring, watching the rise and fall of her side as she slept. He ran his eyes from her exposed, slender neck, along her side, seeing the familiar dip of her waist followed by the rise of her hip. The fabric clung to her body, which was damp with sweat from the almost unbearable heat now filling the tent. She rubbed her bare legs together slightly as her breath grew slower and deeper.

He forced his gaze away, turning to look up at the ceiling and fighting off thoughts of his more recent dreams of her. _This. Is. Not. Helping. _He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. Suddenly his feelings of desire turned to anger. _She is doing this on purpose. Dangling herself in front of me, knowing that I can't—no. _He stopped himself. _Despite everything that has happened, I know she is not that kind of person. She is too considerate. Too selfless._ He turned his head back over to gaze at her, noticing the pile of her clothing in the corner. _Of course. _He chided himself, glancing down at his own bare chest. _She's hot. Wearing my shirt was an act of mercy if nothing else…_ his thoughts began to wander again to what choice she would have made under different circumstances.

He had to concentrate again to fight the heat building up in his body. That combined with the actual temperature in his tent made him feel smothered. He fumbled as he reached for the waterskin. The water was lukewarm but still helped take some of the edge off the heat. He let himself fall back onto the bedroll in an attempt to calm himself. Regaining control, he turned onto his side to face Hawke, unable to fight the urge to watch her as she slept. _If I can't manage the comfort of her company during the day, this is the next best thing, I suppose. _He sighed, a bit louder than he had intended.

A similar sound escaped Hawke's lips at that moment as she began stretching and turning onto her back. The motion caused the bottom of the shirt to draw up even higher on her thighs. He immediately averted his gaze, returning to the profile of her face instead. She continued to shift until she was on her other side, now facing Fenris. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and a smile crept onto her face, "Maker, I haven't slept that well since—" her eyes suddenly snapped open the rest of the way as she remembered her surroundings, seeing Fenris' face not far from hers, "Fenris…" she gasped, her tone one of apology as she glanced down at her – his- shirt. She sat up quickly to reach for her cloak, which only resulted in the shirt sliding further up her lap until it was barely covering her, "I – I'm sorry, I was just – it was hot and I didn't know—" He immediately silenced her by pressing his thumb to her lips as he had done so often in recent days. Her eyes grew wider as she pulled the cloak up to her chest. _I do not understand this man. One moment he wants me out of his sight, the next…this._

"I think you should keep that shirt," he gave her a sly smile, "You look far better in it than I do." Her heart skipped a beat as he pulled his thumb away from her mouth.

She closed her eyes, a sudden new resolve washing over her. "Fenris," her tone was stern causing his smile to slip away slightly, "I don't understand you." Her eyes shot back open, her gaze far more piercing than he'd ever seen.

The expression on her face and the confidence in her voice shook him to the core. _I know._ He didn't understand himself either. His need to hide from her and conceal his past. Darnasius…Hadriana…the Fog Warriors… His thoughts drifted. He sat up fully as well, hanging his head slightly and avoiding her eyes, which now held a determined look he only saw in her during battle.

"I know." He repeated his thought out loud. She waited for him to continue; the silence was deafening.

What felt like hours later he slowly opened his mouth to speak again, "Marian…I...I am afraid of hurting you…"

"A little late for that," she muttered. Her words stung, but he saw the truth of them.

"I'm sorry," he offered weakly, "But I meant…really hurting you. Physically." He held out his arms, palms upward. Her eyes followed his gaze to his lyrium markings when the realization struck her.

"I don't understand – why? What makes you think you would hurt me?" her face softened. She began to reach out for his hand but stopped herself.

"It's not something I'm fully ready to talk about," he looked her directly in the eyes. "It's something in my past. Something I've been battling with for a long time now…" his voice drifted.

"I want to help you. I've told you that. Please let me help." There was no mistaking the pleading tone in her voice and the expression on her face.

He sighed, pressing his face into his palms as hard as he could, as if he were trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. He felt her fingers rest on his shoulder. He fought off his instinct to draw away from her touch and instead remained still.

She continued, "I was never lying to you when I said that whatever you needed…all the time you need...I don't care. I just, I don't want to be pushed out of your life. I want to be a part of it. I want you to be part of mine." He heard the quiver in her voice on the last sentence. He pulled his hands away from his face and looked over at her. Her head was down, her gaze falling on her other hand which was now resting loosely in her lap, no longer clutching her cloak. He felt a weight hit his chest as he saw a tear roll down her cheek.

Without hesitating, without stopping to think, he grabbed her hand off his shoulder and the other hand from her lap and pulled her swiftly and confidently against him. It was a very different embrace from their first. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face into his shoulder, sobbing. Tears were now rolling down his own face. He reached around her waist, clutching her thigh, and pulled her sideways onto his lap, trying to draw her as near to him as he could. This time his feelings did not overpower him; there was nothing carnal in this moment. This was – different. And he now knew why.

"Marian…" he whispered gruffly through his tears. Her breaths began to slow a little as she shifted her head to rest sideways on his shoulder. She paused, waiting for him to finish his thought. "I love you."

His declaration came even as a surprise to himself. Her breath caught in her throat as her whole body froze. He grimaced, _I've confused her even more. I've said too much, too soon, I—_his thoughts were interrupted as she pulled herself away from his shoulder and moved to hold his face in her hands. She pulled his head down and tilted her own to rest her forehead against his, taking a deep breath.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to hear that," she whispered, his doubts immediately washing away as he moved his hands to cover hers. "I love you, too. I've known that since we were up in that tree together. I probably knew even before then." She let out a small laugh. He drew her in again, squeezing her as if letting go would mean she would suddenly disappear into the blackness of the Deep Roads.

"Fenris…" he heard her muffled voice after a few minutes passed.

"Mm?"

"I…can't…breathe…"

He chuckled heartily, releasing her drawing her back so he could study her face. "Sorry about that." Holding her face he used his thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears that dampened her cheeks.

She looked back into his eyes, smiling.

He grew more serious again, "I know that this doesn't…fix things," he paused as she nodded her agreement, "but I'm working on it. Please trust me that I want to share everything with you. I just. I need time."

"You can take all the time you need," she laughed, which made him cock his head at her unexpected reaction. "If I need to tell you that one more time…" she suddenly moved her hands down to his sides and dug her fingers in, causing him to squirm uncontrollably, and causing her to slide off his lap. He caught her by the wrists and drew her hands up to lips, kissing her fingers gently.

His sly grin from earlier returned to his face, "I can think of better things you can do wi—"

"VARRIC! GIRLY! Where in Andraste's wet knickers are you?!" The moment was ruined, yet again, by the wonderful Bartrand.

This time, however, it wasn't enough to drive either Fenris or Hawke to the point of annoyance that it usually would. Nothing could ruin their morning. As curious as she was to hear the rest of Fenris' idea, Hawke knew that they had a reached a good place and she didn't want to push things too far. Bartrand's interruption was a blessing in disguise.

"Come on," Fenris stood, offering his hand. Hawke reached up and he pulled her up for one last, quick hug. "The Beast summons you." She rolled her eyes. Fenris released her and headed out of the tent to get their water - back to their regular morning routine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **This is a shorter chapter, focusing back on the expedition. Hope you enjoy!

**Updated 3/20/15: **Added a/n; fixed some formatting and grammatical errors. Nothing of substance has changed.

* * *

The way worn group trudged along the ever-widening corridor in the Deep Roads. Despite getting a restful night's sleep, Hawke felt completely sapped of energy. The heat of the cavern did not help. Fenris' presence just ahead of her kept her mood positive, though, as she kept finding herself smiling whenever she recalled their morning together.

Fenris found himself lost in similar thoughts, though he still struggled inwardly. _She said I could have all the time I need. She means it. But she deserves more. She's been so patient. I shouldn't be so selfish. _He battled with himself. _No. I know that she loves me and meant everything she said. I just need to work up the strength to tell her the truth about…everything. _His thoughts continued back and forth as the day wore on.

Bartrand was gracious enough to let them stop briefly for lunch that day, though Hawke was certain it was only because he, too, was too exhausted to try to push on. _If we don't find this thaig soon, I think we're all going to lose our minds._ She and Fenris sat quietly on the back of Bodahn's wagon, eating their lunch in relative silence. It was a pleasant silence - each too tired to think let alone converse. Once Hawke finished her sandwich she scooted closer to Fenris, resting her head on his shoulder as he continued eating. Shifting his sandwich to the opposite hand, he rested his now free hand on Hawke's. She smiled tiredly as her eyes began to droop shut.

Her brief nap was interrupted by a loud clattering noise as Sandal ran past carrying some manner of toolbox. She yawned and stretched, noticing that the group was stirring again, getting ready to move out. Seeing her awake, Fenris nudged her gently with the shoulder she was resting on. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"Oh well," she sighed, "I knew it was too much to hope for any real sleep." She gave his hand a squeeze as she hopped off the wagon, brushing the few remaining crumbs from her lap.

* * *

The group pushed on even longer than usual, despite everyone's weariness. The hope that maybe they would catch sight of their goal before the day was out gave them enough energy to continue well past dinner time. Finally, however, Bodahn called for them to set camp. Hawke was not looking forward to guard duty that night; she had first watch this time.

After camp was set, she headed to the mess tent with Fenris and they sat down next to Anders and Varric, ready for a quiet meal. As she sat down, though, Hawke caught a glimpse of Anders' face and immediately knew something was wrong. His expression was more serious than she'd ever seen it, and not his usual sulky frown.

"Anders?" she ventured. He jumped. She'd never seen him like this before.

He glanced up at the group, his eyes heavy, "Something…is very wrong."

His tone sent chills down everyone's spines. Even Fenris momentarily forgot his hatred for the mage as he stared, waiting for an explanation.

"Darkspawn?" Hawke questioned.

"No…at least, I'm fairly certain it's not. This is – this is very different. This is…" his voice trailed off briefly as he closed his eyes and shuddered.

As Anders opened his eyes again he noticed everyone staring at him in silence.

"Sorry," he spoke up, "I'm just trying to figure out what this means. It's similar to the effect of Fenris' weird lyrium thing he does, when I get too near him." Fenris snorted, but said nothing more. "But…it's stronger," Anders continued. "It feels heavier."

Hawke finally spoke, "Can you tell if it – whatever it is – is nearby?"

"I'm not sure, but the sensation has been increasing as we've continued on today. I can't even block it out now."

Hawke pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in deep thought. Suddenly and without a word, she stood up and marched away from the table toward where Bodahn sat at the fire. She stopped briefly to turn around and motion hurriedly for Varric to follow her.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Bartrand looked thoroughly annoyed, "Can't it wait 'til morning? Who's going to guard the camp tonight?"

"I really think it would be best for everyone if we investigate what Anders is sensing. That's why we brought him along," Hawke said firmly.

"Anyway, think about it, brother," Varric stepped in, "Maybe we'll find the thaig tonight."

This caused Bartrand to raise an eyebrow, looking rather pleased now. "Very well," he conceded. "But I'm not sending a search party after you if you get lost or eaten."

Hawke and Varric looked at each other and sighed. They turned to head back to the mess tent to update Fenris and Anders on the change of plans.

* * *

The small group headed into the cavern, the sphere of light on Anders' staff glowing softly on the walls.

Anders grew noticeably more agitated as they progressed. _I'm beginning to feel sorry for him, _Hawke thought, _I can't imagine what it must be like to have that kind of ability. The fear of nightmares of darkspawn and archdemons always looming, knowing when danger is near, always on edge. _She shivered, despite the warmth in the cavern.

They had been exploring for just over an hour when they rounded a bend and the four of them stopped immediately in their tracks.

"Maker…" Hawke whispered. None of the others could manage a word.

Before them lay a massive staircase leading down into the largest cavern she'd ever seen. Numerous stone houses were stacked on either side, a large causeway passing between them, leading up to an enormous and intricately decorated building that must have been a mile away from where they stood. A red glow filled the entire cavern and Hawke's eyes wandered to the large, red veins that were its source.

"Is that…" she began.

Varric finished her thought, "Lyrium?" They continued to stare.

Hawke suddenly noticed another source of light out of the corner of her eye. She turned, her eyes widening, "Fenris?"

He started, as he too had been mesmerized by the sight before him. He looked at Hawke, "Hm?"

She gave him a puzzled look and he noticed she was scanning him up and down. Fenris glanced down and realized that his lyrium markings had been slowly fading in and out. He jumped back slightly and held up his arms in confusion, as if trying to determine what the source of the light was.

"I don't understand this…" he appeared baffled.

Hawke's expression turned to one of concern, "Is it hurting you?"

"No," his voice was one of amazement, "No, it feels…warm. Strangely comfortable."

"This is creeping the shit out of me," Varric finally found his voice after remaining speechless for probably the longest he'd ever had in his life, "This looks nothing like the thaigs I've heard of or seen paintings of. The architecture doesn't even look dwarven. What _is _this place?"

"I don't know," Anders spoke up as well, "but I think that red…lyrium, or whatever it is, is the source of what I've been hearing all day."

"Are you sure?" Hawke asked.

"I think so…" he and the group once again stopped and stared at the thaig, trying to absorb what they were seeing. Hawke's uneasiness grew.

Varric finally interrupted the silence, "Well…we'd better go tell Bartrand."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **I was all set to jump into the excitement of the events at the thaig but figured I should add in one more chapter of lovely fluff before things get heavy. As always, feedback is welcome.

**Updated 3/20/15: **Fixed some formatting/grammatical errors. Nothing of substance has changed.

* * *

Bartrand was elated, as expected. Despite the late hour, he broke open a cask of ale and got the hireling band started up. The camp was suddenly buzzing with activity and there was an air of celebration among the group –all but the four who had just returned from the thaig. The experience had left them all on edge, unsure of how wise this excavation actually was.

Exhausted, they all returned to their tents – Bartrand no longer requesting a guard on duty – and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Despite his eagerness to get to the thaig and start exploring, Bartrand overslept, allowing the rest of the group to get some well-needed rest. Hawke was the first to wake up. Her eyes blinked open and for the first time that trip, she felt ready to face the day, rather than feeling the desire to curl up and sleep longer. Lying quietly she felt steady pressure of Fenris' chest on her back as he breathed softly. One arm was under her head, the other wrapped around her, holding her hand across her chest. She nuzzled herself further into him, hearing him sigh in her ear. His slow, steady breathing returned as he continued to sleep.

_When Varric first approached me, I never imagined that this is what our trip into the Deep Roads would be like._ She smiled to herself. _Despite how emotionally draining it has been at times, I'm not sure Fenris and I would have gotten to this point if we'd remained in Kirkwall._ She closed her eyes as she ran through the previous day's events in her mind. When her mind reached the point where they discovered the thaig, however, a chill ran down her spine causing her to shiver. Her sudden movement must have woken Fenris, because at that moment he gave her hand a squeeze and she felt him press his nose into her hair.

"How do you manage to smell so much better than the rest of us?" his voice was muffled. She laughed softly.

"I happen to sweat morning dew and rare Orlesian perfumes."

"Ahh, it all makes sense now," he pulled his face away from her hair. Removing his arm from under her head, he propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her. "I'll have to bottle some of your sweat for myself."

"Yeah," she turned her head slightly and gave him a wry grin, "Because that doesn't sound at all creepy."

He laughed, smiling back at her. She turned onto her back so she could look up at him without straining her neck. Gently, she reached up and brushed his hair back behind his ear so she could get a better view of his face. He mimicked her motion, letting the back of his hand continue down from her ear and brush softly against her cheek. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh, then reached her arms above her head to give her body a good, long stretch. He continued moving his hand down to the collar of his shirt, which she had worn to bed again.

Pushing the shirt aside slightly, he began running his fingers along her collarbone. Hawke's eyes remained closed from her stretch moments ago and her breath quickened. Moving his hand up to the crook of her neck, he brushed his thumb softly against her exposed throat. He dropped his elbow back down so he was lying next to her as he continued to caress her. Slowly he moved his face in toward her neck, pressing his nose against her to try to capture as much of her scent as he could. She tilted her head slightly to expose more of her neck to him. He responded by lightly brushing his lips against her skin.

Hawke's heart was racing as she felt the touch of his lips on her neck. _Thank you, Maker, Andraste, whoever! _She cried out in her head. His hand slid further across her shoulder and under her shirt, letting it rest on her arm. He shifted slightly and gave her a soft kiss at the crook of her neck, causing her to let out a soft moan as she squirmed a little under his touch. He paused, seeming to read her response carefully as he moved his lips down to her collarbone. Hawke had to fight every urge she had to move his head up and give him a long, deep kiss. _Control yourself, Marian. You made a promise to him._ _Let him take his time_. She tried to ignore the burning sensation that was growing in her core.

Fenris moved his hand toward the center of her chest, where the fabric of the shirt met in a V. He pushed the fabric back exposing her shoulder, his palm brushing the top of her breast along the way. She uttered another strained sigh. _Control. Your. Self. _She repeated her mantra. Propping himself up slightly again, he moved closer to her so he could softly kiss her bare shoulder. His body was halfway on top of her, pressing into her side. She could feel him against her leg and knew that he was enjoying this as much as she was. She involuntarily slid her leg up, letting her thigh slowly brush against him through his leggings. He groaned into her shoulder and she could feel the weight of his body pressing down even harder.

Hawke slowly raised her arm and brought her hand up behind his neck, running her fingers up and down it softly. The pressure against her thigh increased at her touch, causing flames to shoot up her legs. She suddenly stopped herself as an all-too-familiar glow appeared. _No! _She panicked. _Marian, what did you tell yourself? No, no, no. _She felt Fenris freeze up but before his body was fully alight, the glow was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fenris…" she whispered, her voice low and hoarse, "We don't – you don't have to…" she stopped immediately as he moved his hand down to her outer thigh, sliding it up under her shirt and over her underclothes, feeling the curve of her hip, and stopping to rest on her narrow waist, all the while letting his lips slide across her shoulder and back over her collarbone. Her hands dropped swiftly to the bedroll as she dug her fingernails into the fabric in frustration, slightly arching her back. Dropping back onto his side next to her, he moved his hand across her now-exposed stomach, feeling her strong, hard abdominal muscles underneath her soft skin.

"Fenris," she whispered again.

"Hm?" his voice was gruff, making her squirm a little.

"Can you—please—will you kiss me?" the minute the words escaped her mouth she grimaced. _MARIAN. _She chided herself severely as Fenris' hand stopped moving, _what are you doing? You're going to ruin everything._ She felt his body shift again, _He's going to leave. He's going to escape. It's going to be like before; you've pushed him, when you know he's terrified of hurting you._ Her thoughts were interrupted though as she realized he was propping himself back up until he was nearly on top of her again.

The look in his eyes was one of determination – the same look he had that night in his room when he worked up the courage to touch her hands. Her eyes met his as he moved his face closer to hers, her heart was pounding so hard she was sure she'd wake up the entire camp. She could feel his breath on her lips, the pressure of his body against hers, his heartbeat matching the pace of her own. He stopped short though as the lyrium began to glow again, firing up brightly. She froze. _Look what you've done. _She wanted to cry at the thought of putting him through this again. But he remained, closing his eyes tightly, yet appearing more relaxed and controlled than he had the last time they nearly kissed. A few seconds passed, though it felt like an eternity, and the glow faded. He immediately fell onto his back next to her and exhaled heavily. Hawke remained frozen, unsure of his state of mind.

"Marian," his voice was gentle, "I'm sorry, I wanted to—"

"No, Fenris." She cut him off, "It was my fault for pushing you. I should have known from last time that you weren't ready." They both stared up at the ceiling of the tent.

"Thank you," was his only response. _You were so close this time, _he sighed to himself, recalling the feel of her skin on his lips and under his fingers. He continued his internal pep talk, _you just need more time, and you need to learn to control this. But you've never been closer to Marian than you were this morning. _He fought off the feelings of remorse and anger that tried to creep into his head. _This is about more than your ability to touch her, to show her you love her. This is about freedom. I can get there. With Marian's help, I know I can get there._

"I don't want to give up," he spoke again, turning to face Hawke. She turned onto her side to face him as well, curling her arm up under her head, looking very relaxed despite what had just happened.

"I'm glad," she smiled. "But, please tell me if I'm pressuring you."

He reached out to brush a stray hair out of her face. "You aren't," he assured her. "But I promise to tell you if you ever do." He recalled her words, _"I don't want to be pushed out of your life. I want to be a part of it. I want you to be part of mine." _He knew that he needed to be open with her, even if he couldn't tell her everything at this point. He swiftly grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. "I love you," he reminded her.

A huge smile spread across her face, "I love you, too, Fenris." She returned his gesture and kissed the top of his hand. She sat up and readjusted her clothing. "But I think we ought to get moving. The sooner we explore that thaig, the sooner we can get back to Kirkwall." _And to a much more comfortable and private bed, _she added to herself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I took quite a few creative liberties with the events in this chapter, but I don't want to follow the game so closely that there is nothing new to enjoy. I also wanted to weave in some of the lore (and my theories) from DA:I. It will help if I ever follow Hawke as far as the events in that game. Enjoy!

* * *

"All right, listen up," Bartrand's voice boomed, echoing in the cavern. Hawke cringed inwardly. "Our pals here," he motioned toward Hawke, Varric, Fenris, and Anders, "Are going to scout out the far end of the thaig. Meantime, the rest of you worthless shits get to work on excavating those houses. Pack lunch, we don't have time for you little girlies to play tea. We've got coin to make." Everyone stood, waiting for further instructions. "What in the blazes are you nughumpers waiting for? MOVE OUT."

Fenris and Hawke headed back to the tent to get everything they would need for the day ahead. After giving her daggers a quick polish, she sheathed them and grabbed up her pack along with her waterskin. She waited for Fenris as he began pulling the two remaining wine bottles out of his pack. He hesitated with the Aggregio and glanced up at Hawke.

"Might improve the dry sandwiches at lunch?" he gently shook the bottle back and forth temptingly.

Hawke laughed, "You'll get no argument from me."

Fenris slipped the bottle back in his bag and slung his sword onto his back. They headed together toward the mess tent to collect their rations for that day. Bodahn handed them their sandwiches, wrapped in cloths. "How much do you think I can eat?" Hawke raised an eyebrow at him.

"Bartrand doesn't think the expedition will be back in time for dinner," Bodahn informed her. _Ugh, _Hawke sighed. _That dwarf is insufferable._ She shoved the sandwiches in her pack and walked with Fenris to the thaig entrance where Anders and Varric were already waiting for them.

"I swear," Hawke grumbled to Varric, "I may find it difficult to not strangle your brother when we get back. I've never met someone I've hated so much in such a short time."

Varric laughed, "You don't know the half of it, Hawke."

"Onward, then?" she turned to the group, catching Fenris' smile. Without a word, they began to make their way down the enormous stone staircase that lead into the thaig.

* * *

Fenris' lyrium was pulsating brighter as they began to draw nearer to where the veins of red lyrium were.

"Maker!" Hawke jumped as she heard Anders shout behind them. Everyone turned to look at him as he pressed his forefingers into his temples, squeezing his eyes closed, "I swear this stuff is talking to me, but I don't understand it." Fenris glared, _It's probably your demon friend, Abomination. _He wanted to lecture him, but bit his tongue. _This day started out far too pleasant to let the likes of that apostate ruin it._

Hawke was concerned however, which made Fenris cringe further, "Do you need to go back to the camp?"

"No, no," he waved his hand at her, not making eye contact with anyone, "I'm fine, let's just get this over with." Hawke shifted her pack on her shoulder as the group continued forward. As they drew nearer to the enormous stone building that they had seen the night before, Hawke reveled in the detailed and intricate carvings that adorned every inch of it. _This is so beautiful. How could anyone abandon this? _

"I swear this architecture looks more elven than dwarven," Varric looked more uneasy than Anders. He muttered under his breath, "This is why I hate the sodding Deep Roads. Nothing makes sense down here."

As they reached the bottom of the stairway that lead to the entrance of the building, everyone slowed to a stop and stared up in awe. A silence fell over the group. It felt like hours that they had been standing there when Hawke heard Fenris clear his throat behind her.

"We should probably head in if we're going to make any progress today," he said pointedly. The rest of the group broke out of their trances and they continued up the stairs.

With no small amount of effort, they were able to slide the large stone doors open, stirring up dust that glittered in the light of Fenris' markings, which were still glowing in intervals from the red lyrium veins. It cast a haunting image as they stared into the darkness ahead of them. Anders quickly cast a spell that lit his staff again, but the light was still weak in the dark room in front of them.

"What about those torches along the walls?" Hawke pointed to one of the several rusted, iron sconces that lined the portion of the room they could see. Anders stepped to the nearest one to examine it, when suddenly another soft glow began to fill the room.

"A-Anders?" Hawke's heart began racing as the all-too-familiar light began filling Anders' eyes and crackling under his skin. _Justice? Why now? What is going on? _Fenris began to take swift step forward but Hawke held her arm out to stop him in his tracks. He shot her a wary glance, furrowing his eyebrows. She looked back and shook her head, trying to signal to him to wait. He got the message but continued to stand with his chest pressed against Hawke's outstretched arm, ready to take any necessary action should the mage lose control.

Ander's hand raised slowly and with a fluid flick of the wrist, a peculiar, green fire appeared in the sconce. "Veilfire," Justice's voice echoed in the room, "I had not thought this could exist outside the fade. I do not understand this place." His voice sounded strained and confused. Hawke felt the pressure increase on her arm as the group watched Anders move around the room, lighting each torch with the same strange fire. In a few moments, the room was well lit but everything was cast in an eerie green-tinted light. The ceiling stretched up into the blackness and the floor was covered in a beautiful bronze mosaic that was shattered in many places. Slowly the light in Anders' eyes faded as he regained control of himself.

He glanced nervously at Hawke, "I- I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she replied, but she wasn't really paying attention. She was mesmerized by her surroundings as her eyes wandered around the room. Beautiful curved and flowing sculptures stood in the various alcoves that lined the room. They didn't look anything like the Paragon sculptures they had seen closer to the entrance of the Deep Roads. There were two enormous, circular benches in the center of the room, the high backs covered in delicate designs of leaves and flowers and tree branches. A few scraps of faded and threadbare fabric hung off the seats where cushions likely once rested. Another stone door stood open on the opposite end of the room, with nothing but darkness behind it.

"I don't want to be here anymore, Hawke." Varric was speaking through his tightly clenched teeth. He was gripping Bianca, as though he were ready to take a shot at the next thing that moved.

Hawke reached out to give his arm a squeeze, "It's fine Varric." She was trying to reassure him and herself at the same time. _This place feels...wrong. We shouldn't be here._ She knew the rest of the group shared her thoughts.

Varric seemed to be gathering up his courage as he spoke up more clearly this time, "Then let's just get a move on so we can get out of this blighted shithole as soon as we can." He trudged forward and the other three followed close behind him. As they entered the next room, Anders once again went through and lit all the torches, but with no sign of Justice this time, much to Fenris' relief. This room was the same width as the prior one but was much shallower, with only a plain stone floor and a single bench on either side of the door ahead of them. A heavy stone latch held the door shut in front of them and it once again took the effort of the group to lift it. _What is behind this door that it needs to be barricaded so heavily? _Hawke thought nervously, but decided best not to speak, as everyone was already on edge enough as it was.

Once the latch was raised, they all leaned in on the door as it slid open, this time with much greater ease than the previous door. A bright red glow appear in the crack of the door as soon as they began opening it. They stepped into the room which was surprisingly well-lit. A large bronze altar stood in the center with several steps leading up to it, bordered by an intricate stone railing. As they took a step forward, two tall, free-standing lamps suddenly came ablaze with fire. Varric literally jumped, nearly knocking over Fenris.

Hawke looked down at the wire that was wrapped around her foot, "It was a tripwire, Varric. It's okay." Silently she cursed herself, _You need to be paying attention. That could have been something dangerous on the ends of the wire. _The adrenaline rush returned her focus as her eyes scanned the room for any other hidden traps. Assured that the rest of the room appeared safe, she and Varric made their way up to the altar with Anders and Fenris close behind.

They climbed the steps slowly and as they reached the top, Hawke let out a quiet gasp, letting the daggers she was wielding fall to the ground. The others hurried to climb up next to her to see what could elicit such reaction. Before their eyes lay the most beautiful statuette they had ever scene. Gold looping and weaving through a prism of red lyrium. As Varric reached to pick it up the lyrium bounced off of the metallic areas, casting shards of pink light around the room. Varric handed the object to Hawke and she examined it more closely. There was detailed carving of skeletal woman, frozen in a scream. She appeared to be clasping onto a man in agony as he held her, dying. Hawke was mesmerized. She felt drawn to it in a way she couldn't describe.

"What is it?" she whispered in awe.

"It looks like some kind of...idol." Varric's voice was equally quiet. A sudden noise behind them startled them enough that they glanced away from the object, released from the hold it had on them.

Bartrand was standing at the bottom of the staircase behind them, trying to peer up at what the excitement was about. Varric grabbed the object back from Hawke and held it up proudly, "Look at this, Bartrand! An idol, made of that red lyrium, I think." He shifted it back and forth as it caught the light cast by the flames. Hawke glanced over at Bartrand and her blood ran cold. He had a queer look in his eyes. His gaze was distant and dark. Varric seemed not to notice as he continued jabbering to his brother, "This could be worth a _fortune_!"

Bartrand let out a long, low whistle, "You could be right…" his voice was hollow. "Excellent find, brother."

Varric tossed the idol to Bartrand and turned back to Hawke and the group, "Let's keep looking around. See if there's anything further in." He motioned to a small door hidden behind a large pillar in the back of the room.

"You do that," Bartrand said quietly, but the group was busy making their way to the back of the altar to check if there was anything else in the room. Suddenly, Hawke heard the sound of stone dragging along the ground. She whipped her head around to see the door closing shut behind them.

"The door!" she cried out, panicking. The others turned and saw what was happening everyone began to rush back to the entrance of the room. Hawke swiftly hopped up on the banister, sliding quickly to the bottom of the stairs, flinging herself at the door just as it slammed shut.

Varric banged his fists on the door, trying to catch his brother's attention. A lump formed in Hawke's throat as she heard the heavy latch fall back into place on the other side.

"Bartrand!" Varric shouted through the stone, "The door…it shut behind you!"

They waited to see if he could hear them. Suddenly they heard low, muffled chuckle on the other side. "Oh Varric, you were always the perceptive one in the family."

Everyone froze in place, realizing what was happening. "Are you joking?!" Varric exclaimed, his face growing red, "You're going to screw over your own brother for a damned _idol_?" He threw both fists against the door as hard as he could.

"It's not just the idol!" Bartrand's voice sounded strained and heavy, "It's...the location of this thaig. This red lyrium. That alone is worth a fortune. And I swear by the Ancestors, I will not split that three ways." There was a pause and they heard his footsteps as he was walking away, "Sorry, brother!" He called back, but his voice was so faint they could barely hear him anymore.

"Bartrand!" Varric shouted desperately, but there was no response. "BARTRAND!"

But he was gone, and they were trapped in the thaig with no way to reach the rest of the expedition.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I spent a little free time recently making notes on the original story to help ensure continuity. Finally had some time to write this chapter. It's a bit longer than the others but hopefully it's also a little more action-packed. Enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcome!

* * *

"BARTRAND!" Varric's voice cried out among the loud clanging of bolts wildly hitting the stone door as he fired aimlessly with Bianca, "I swear, I will find that son-of-a-bitch - sorry mother - and I will _kill_ him!" He continued firing wildly - Fenris and Anders took a few steps away to avoid being hit by a ricocheting bolt.

"Varric." Hawke's voice was firm, yet calm. He continued cursing under his breath and firing bolts, "Varric!" Hawke's voice grew louder but remained calm. Still ignoring Hawke, Varric begin picking up loose stones and throwing those at the door instead, as he had completely emptied Bianca. Hawke took one step closer to him and grabbed his arm as he reached for another stone, "Varric!"

He froze, looking down at her hand on his arm, eventually letting it fall loosely at his side, the stone slipping out of his grasp. Hawke released her grip as he slid to the floor on his knees, hugging Bianca tightly against his chest. The silence in the room was deafening.

"There is no sense in wasting our ammunition," she glanced around the room, relieved to see that most of the bolts had survived his outburst. She began working her way about, gathering up the bolts as she continued to speak. "And we're wasting precious time that would be better spent finding our way out of here." Her voice was eerily calm, rendering the rest of the group speechless. In silence, Fenris joined in collecting the remaining bolts from the stone floor. He handed them to Hawke, who in turn handed them to Varric. He glanced at them wearily before sighing, reloading Bianca, and pulling himself back up to his feet.

Hawke was now turning her attention to the tripwire she had triggered, using her scissors to dismantle it the rest of the way and tucking the wire and parts into her pack. Without looking at anyone in the group she began making her way to the back of the room where they had spotted a small door earlier.

"You all know as well as I do," She turned back momentarily to address them, "time is of the essence." The thought sent a chill down Fenris' spine. Being in dangerous situations did not generally shake him, but the idea of dying of thirst or starvation deep underground drove him to near panic. He watched Hawke as she confidently strode toward the door. _I am not sure whether to admire her, or be terrified._ He thought grimly.

She began to push heavily on the door, moving it open before the others were able to reach her and help.

"We don't even know where we are…" Anders glanced through the open doorway into the passageway that loomed before them. Thankfully, it was well-lit from the red lyrium veins.

"Doesn't matter," Hawke remarked, "We have no other option. We move or we perish." Varric glanced at Fenris as his jaw dropped. Fenris looked back at him and shrugged, his expression one of equal incredulity. The group ventured into the unknown, working hard to keep with Hawke's brisk pace.

_Maker. Andraste. Someone. If you're there, please. Grant me strength. This is not how it's supposed to end. _Hawke fought back tears welling up in the back of her eyes as she continued several paces ahead of the other three. _Surely you have not brought me this far for me to die in an abandoned thaig deep under Thedas. If for no one else, please bring us to safety so I can protect my family. They need me. _Hawke's mind wandered to Bethany being locked up in the circle, her mother deteriorating under the weight of the loss of her remaining children. She clenched her fists with new resolve, blinking away the tears, and charging onward.

* * *

It felt like many hours had passed when Fenris finally spoke up.

"Hawke." She continued on without so much as a hesitation in her step. "Hawke," he said again, a little louder this time.

"What?" she turned around, her eyes piercing. He was taken aback by her coldness. Once her eyes met his gaze, however, her expression softened a little. "Sorry, Fenris," she sighed, "What is it?"

"It might be wise to stop for a moment," he motioned back at the others. Varric was hunched over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath as Anders stood next to him leaning heavily on his staff.

She paused before finally conceding, "I suppose you're right. We ought to eat something anyway, we'll need our strength." The group gathered together and sat down, backs against the passage walls. Varric and Anders were sitting across the way from Fenris and Hawke.

"We need to carefully ration the food we have," Hawke reminded them, glancing at the bundle of sandwiches in her pack that mere hours ago had seemed like far too much food for her. She tore one of them in half and tucked the rest back in her pack, "Water, especially."

Anders spoke up at her mention of water, "I know a spell that can help at least prolong the onset of dehydration." Fenris was about to mutter something sarcastic but thought better of it, _I have always acknowledged that magic can have its uses. At least this will keep us alive long enough to have a hope of getting back to Kirkwall. Then I can return to hating him. _

"Thank you, Anders - if you would." Hawke nodded her approval. He set down the portion of sandwich he'd begun eating and walked to each member of the group, calmly laying a hand on their foreheads as they felt a cool wave wash over them. He did the same to himself before settling back down to finish eating. He and Varric began quietly discussing a recent game of Diamondback, trying to distract themselves from the immediate situation.

Fenris took advantage of the opportunity to turn and address Hawke one-on-one for the first time since they had entered the thaig. "Are you alright, Hawke?" He ventured. For some reason, he felt it was inappropriate to use her first name. She slowly let out a long, quiet sigh.

"No, Fenris," she rested her elbow on one of her legs, which were crossed as she sat on the floor. Letting her head drop into her hand she closed her eyes. "No, I'm not alright." He desperately wanted to reach for her. To hold her, to squeeze her hand. Anything to comfort her. But it seemed as appropriate to him as throwing his arms around the Revered Mother at that point. He hadn't seen her take on such an authoritative stance since last addressing the Arishok.

He decided instead to take a different approach, "What can I do?"

"We just need to keep moving, until we can find some sign of a way out of here." He took that to mean that she needed his assistance in this, and that she was relying on him to maintain his normal confidence and strength of will. _I'm not sure I can even manage that for long. I feel more trapped her than I ever did with Danarius. _He kept his thoughts to himself and only nodded as she looked up at him pleadingly. "I can do that, Hawke," He smiled, trying to offer her some reassurance. "I told you I would be here when you need me." She smiled back, albeit weakly.

* * *

The group trudged on as the hours passed.

"Maker," Anders' normal whine was beginning to return, "How long has it been?" No one responded, either because they were afraid to consider the real answer to his question, or they simply wanted to avoid stirring up an argument. Anders seemed to care little.

They were now coming up to junction in the corridor; they could no longer move forward but had to choose the left or right passage. "Great, what do we do now?" Anders muttered.

Hawke noticed that the passage to the left went only a few yards before reaching a closed doorway. The passage to the right lead to another junction. "Let's try this way first," the door seemed to offer greater promise of an exit. No one argued.

The door swung open easily and an eerie blue glow hung in the room. Hawke jumped a little when she saw a figure looming on the far side of the room. She sighed in relief as she realized it was only an old, silent stone golem. The group cautiously ventured into the room, but it was largely empty, save for a few small chests and boulders that must have come down from the ceiling ages ago.

"This doesn't seem to be a way out," Hawke sighed, "We'd better head back out to-" she froze as she felt the temperature suddenly drop in the room and shadows began rising from the stone floor.

"Shades." Fenris clenched his teeth and drew his weapon from his back. Anders and Varric positioned themselves swiftly behind the other two before Varric caught sight of a large boulder next to him and scrambled to the top of it to gain an advantage.

The shades were upon them swiftly as Hawke and Fenris kept pushing them back, trying to corner them. They were down to just two remaining and Hawke and Fenris each turned their attention to one of them. Fenris was just bringing down his final blow when Hawke's shade suddenly darted away and disappeared into the golem.

Suddenly, the golem began to glow - the same eerie blue of the room they were in. Hawke's eyes grew wide as it shifted, pulling itself up to its full height, stretching its arms.

"Move, Hawke!" Fenris whispered hoarsely, but she was frozen. The creature loomed over her drawing its arms above its head. Hawke suddenly snapped back to full attention and managed to roll away just as the mighty stone arms came crashing down. Fenris shouted to the creature, drawing its attention before it could turn to follow Hawke. Anders cast various ice bolts, weakening and slowing it until Fenris was able to deal several damaging blows. Hawke was behind it now, exploiting the weak points at its shoulders and knees. Finally it let out a deafening roar as Varric fired a lethal shot through the back of its neck. It dropped to its knees and crumbled into a heap of stone and rubble on the floor.

There was a few minutes of silence as everyone stopped to catch their breath. Finally, Fenris spoke up, breaking the tension, "Excellent shot, dwarf." Varric patted Bianca all too lovingly, "That's my girl."

* * *

After a brief respite to stop and drink a few precious sips of water each, Anders offered to heal Hawke's knee, which she had bruised and scraped up pretty badly when she had rolled out of the golem's deadly reach.

"No," she waved him away, "You need to conserve your mana. Don't waste it on a few minor scrapes." But she groaned as she applied weight to her leg, pulling herself up from where she had been sitting. _Andraste's dimpled ass, this hurts! I just need to walk this off, though, and I'll be fine. _ Her thoughts did little to convince herself. She glanced back at Anders, catching his doubtful gaze. "No." She said firmly again, responding to his unasked question.

Hawke turned to the rest of the group, "Let's head down to the opposite end of the passage and see where the next junction leads. We can't waste time." Fenris and Varric also rose from where they had been examining a few of the items. Fenris slipped a small object quietly into one of the pouches on his belt and moved ahead to follow Hawke out of the room with the others.

It took only a few minutes to reach the other end of the passage, where they quickly realized that there was no passage to the right, giving them only one option. It was a relief to not worry about choosing the wrong direction.

The left passage quickly opened up into a large room with an enormous multi-tiered staircase that descended toward a second and more narrow passage below. This room was also lit by the red lyrium veins in the wall, and now by Fenris' soft lyrium glow that was triggered by the veins. As they entered the room they were once again surrounded by shades, but without a golem to possess this time, the demons were quickly slain and the group continued their descent.

Varric finally spoke up, voicing what the others had been worrying about, "I don't get all the demons down here, especially with the lack of corpses or darkspawn about." He glanced back at Anders nervously, but Anders quickly put his fears to rest. "I sense nothing," the mage assured him.

"Well, we can worry about that back in Kirkwall," Hawke said, her voice a bit lighter than it had previously been. She was beginning to feel a little better as they progressed through the thaig. "In the meantime, we keep moving."

They continued down the final flight of stairs when a rumble and the sound of crumbling rock caught their attention. Hawke's eyes darted around the room, expecting to see a golem they had somehow missed, but instead her eyes caught a strange yellow glow coming from the passage they were trying to reach. Bizarre figures drew up out of the ground, each with a skeletal rock center that glowed pale yellow, surrounded by stone boulders that formed the vague shapes of arms and legs. The creatures seemed to burn from the inside. They were smaller yet swifter than stone golems, and did not appear to be the result of possession by shades.

"Here we go again…" Hawke groaned, wielding her daggers and readying herself for the onslaught. Fenris was quickly ahead of her clearing a gap for her to flank the group. Anders continued relying on spells of ice, which seemed to be remarkably effective against the unknown monsters they fought. Many of the weakened ones shattered under Fenris' blade as he cut through the group. Hawke finally swept up behind the last one as it was turning its attention toward Varric, who had sent a bolt that embedded itself in the creature's leg. Hawke swiftly thrust both daggers between in the vulnerable core of the creature as it uttered a haunting cry and crumbled to the ground with the rest.

"Bloody flames," Varric stared at the piles of rock that were now scattered across the bottom floor of the room, "What _were_ those things?"

"I was rather hoping you would know," Hawke looked at him, her eyes every bit as wide as his. "You're the dwarven expert, after all." He rolled his eyes at her, "You know I don't actually know anything about the Deep Roads that you haven't heard yourself. Rock wraiths, maybe? But those aren't supposed to actually be real..." His voice trailed off as he considered the possibility. Hawke shrugged at him and they all began to move forward again, cautiously tiptoeing through the remains of whatever they had just killed.

The group was now more on guard as the four continued through the passageway, encountering more shades and strange stone creatures. The fought their way back into a large cavern that had a natural stone bridge leading through to the passage on the other side. As Fenris struck down the final creature, Hawke heard a strange rumbling voice from behind her that caused the ground to shake beneath their feet, "ENOUGH." The voice spoke.

Hawke whipped around, daggers flashing, but she froze when she found herself staring up at yet another of the stone creatures - this one much larger than the ones they had previously fought off. One skull-like, oblong bolder rested at the top of it, giving the appearance of a head. The creature rose to its full height, nearly twice as tall as Hawke herself, and continued to address them. "You have proven your mettle. I would not see these creatures harmed without need."

Hawke was the first to respond, her voice shaking a bit, but her confidence growing, "I should say that being attacked on sight gives us _plenty_ of need." Fenris tensed at her defiant remark. _Marian, what are you doing? _He wanted to lecture her. _This is not a being to be trifled with. We know not what power it has._ But he remained silent, fearing angering the creature.

"They will not assault you further," the creature replied calmly. Fenris relaxed, but only slightly, as it continued speaking, "Not without my permission."

"What manner of creature are these?" Hawke motioned toward the rock corpses that littered the ground. She knew she was being bold but her instinct told her she should not display any sign of submission.

"They...hunger." The being replied, its voice sending a chill down Hawke's spine. She heard Fenris shift his weight as he often did when he was preparing himself to draw his sword. She did not risk sparing him a glance, however, as the creature continued. "The profane have lingered in this place for ages beyond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know." It motioned toward the red lyrium veins that surrounded them.

"The lyrium?" Hawke's eyes opened wide, "That's what sustains them?"

The creature ignored her question and continued, "I am not as they are," for the first time it showed hesitation, "I am...a visitor."

"It's a demon." Anders spoke up. "It has come to feed." Hawke could read the building rage in his voice. She knew the group was on edge, ready to take this creature down.

The demon regarded Anders carefully, "And I would not see my feast end…" its voice carrying a threat as it turned its attention back to Hawke, addressing her again. "I sense your desire," Hawke grew uneasy, _I really, really hate demons, _ she thought to herself but said nothing, letting the demon speak instead. "You seek to leave this place, but you will need my aid to do so." Hawke's eyes grew narrow, _Ah yes, and here comes the catch. _She suddenly remembered her father's constant warnings about not dealing with demons, but also his reminder that demons were not infallible, and could be out-maneuvered. She decided to test this.

"Why do we need your aid to leave?" she challenged.

"Hawwwke," she heard Varric urge cautiously, quietly. She ignored him. She immediately sensed the creature growing pleased as it drew itself up a bit taller and spoke in an easier manner, "There is another door that leads into the paths far above us. That is what you seek. It has been sealed however, and cannot be opened without a key." She heard Varric absentmindedly fumbling around with his lockpick set behind her. The demon noticed as well and chuckled, "No, child of the stone, it is not that kind of key." Varric stopped moving as it addressed him directly.

Hawke shifted her weight, placing a hand on her hip, trying to show the creature that her patience was wearing thin. _I hope this is working…_ She thought as she continued her attempt to draw out the needed information. "Go on." She tilted her head back.

"I know where the key is. Do as I ask, and I shall tell you." The demon stared down at her. She knew time was up; it wanted her decision. _Well, at least we know now there is an exit, and that we need to find the key. That is certainly more than we had before encountering this demon_. She fought a tugging within her, tempting her to agree to the deal as she thought back to her earlier, silent prayers. _No! _Her resolved strengthened as she thought of how her father would answer this creature. Fenris saw her move her weight to her back leg and he immediately knew her intentions, he readied himself and nodded to Varric and Anders who did the same.

"We do not deal with demons." Her voice was unyielding and emotionless, sending a chill through Fenris' spine but also a wash of admiration for her strength and resolve. He had no time to think on it further though, as the demon took a step forward. "Most unwise." It hissed as it raised its arms to call up more shades behind them.

The group was surrounded as the demon's stone form changed into that of an abomination. It lunged for Hawke, but she dodged it quickly, swiftly sweeping her leg under it to catch it off balance, but not able to make it fall. Rage grew in her as she recalled how it had tried to tempt her, using the memories and desires for her family against her. In one fluid motion she rolled up behind the creature, raising both daggers, burying them deeply into the demon's neck. She pulled herself up while gripping the daggers tightly and wrapped her legs around its abdomen to prevent herself from being thrown off as she continued pressing her weight down, driving her weapons further into it, down through its ribcage. It writhed and threw its arms about trying to reach its back and grab at her, but it soon succumbed to the pain and fell forward as Hawke released the daggers and lept back away from it. Once the demon had fallen to the ground she ran forward and pulled her daggers out of the corpse, heading toward the group that was turning to focus on the shades.

By the time Hawke reached the others, they had already felled half of the demons. Once she joined the fray, they made short work of those that remained. As the last creature dropped in front of Fenris, Hawke paused to try to catch her breath, her chest heaving with adrenaline from the fight. Still gripping her daggers, she raised her forearm to wipe the sweat and dirt from her brow as the group stood staring at her.

"What?" she asked breathlessly, mildly annoyed by their sudden attention.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Varric said as he slung Bianca over his shoulder. She glanced quizzically at Fenris. He only raised an eyebrow.

"_What?" _She repeated, her irritation showing. As he walked past her he paused and only said, "I never knew how…._interesting_ it could be to watch someone slay an abomination." He eyed her up and down in an intentionally obvious manner, smiling to himself as her cheeks grew suddenly red. Pleased with her reaction, he continued on leaving her again breathless, but this time for an entirely different reason.


	7. Chapter 7

The four adventurers continued through the thaig, encountering no further demons. They finally reached another door that opened to a large cavern. Massive columns were evenly placed throughout - they were clearly decorative with no functional purpose. Red lyrium veins weaved through the rocks on the walls and some twisted around the capitals of the crumbling columns. The high ceiling was jagged rock, as though the architects of the thaig never completed it. On the opposite end of the enormous room was a large door that glittered blue with magic.

"That looks like the exit the demon spoke of," Hawke pointed across the room, "But where is this bloody key?" She began to doubt her decision to kill the demon but stopped herself. _No, it was the right choice. Father would be proud. Even if we die down here, it was the right choice_.

"Maybe in one of those chests?" Varric interrupted Hawke's thoughts. She looked at where he was pointing and, sure enough, there was a little alcove near the door that held several chests of varying size and design.

"That looks promising," she agreed as the group headed toward the alcove. After sifting through the chests she heard Varric loudly announce, "Ah-ha! This must be it!" Hawke turned around and saw Varric holding up a beautiful brass key; its bow was an intricate leaf formed from the same piece of brass from which the key was carved. Varric walked over to the door and tried the key. Sure enough, it was a fit, and the blue glow sparkled and then quickly dissipated. The door was very heavy, though, so the other three headed over to help open it.

As Hawke walked along she laughed smugly, "I knew that demon was lying to us. We didn't need its help after-" She stopped dead in her tracks as the ground began quaking, moving beneath her feet. She had to widen her stance to prevent herself from falling over. Varric nearly toppled into Anders, who grabbed the dwarf just in time. Fenris was bracing himself against the door.

"Dammit, Hawke," Varric yelled over the rumbling, "You just had to open your big mouth."

Hawke turned to glare at Varric but instead a movement from the floor in the center of the room caught her eye. Boulders began rolling into the middle of the room, building up one on top of the other until they formed an enormous, humanoid mass - the height of the entire party combined. As a final rock rolled to the top to form a head of sorts, the core of the rock creature began to glow red.

"That...can't be good," Varric muttered as he stared up at the monster looming over them.

"MOVE!" Hawke yelled as she ran to get behind one of the nearby columns. The other three crouched next to her, already breathless.

"How the hell do we kill _that_ thing?" Anders asked as he cast a protective bubble around the group.

"The same way we kill anything else," Hawke drew her daggers from their sheaths. "You two should be safe up there." She glanced at Anders and Varric and then nodded toward a large rock platform behind them, "If you need to, you can get back behind this pillar again." Anders and Varric hurried to climb to the top of the rock while Fenris and Hawke charged out from behind the pillar, Fenris shouting as he ran to draw the creature's attention away from the others.

Fenris kept the giant busy, hacking and slashing at its legs as Hawke got behind it and began stabbing at possible weak points. Anders did his best to slow the creature down with ice damage but it seemed much less effective than with the smaller rock beings they had encountered earlier. The only time the creature showed any indication of pain was when Varric would manage to get a bolt past its guard and into its glowing red core. It wasn't enough though.

"This isn't working, Hawke!" Fenris shouted as he jumped out of reach of a giant rock arm swinging towards him.

"I _know_!" Hawke shot back in frustration. "Let me try something. Distract it again!"

Fenris gave her a wary glance but was too exhausted to argue. He threw some more swings at the giant as it turned towards him. Hawke begin to scramble up its back to reach the exposed portion where she could get at its core. She began to draw back one dagger as she held onto a boulder that seemed to take the place of a shoulder blade, but she wasn't fast enough. The creature spun quickly in an attempt to see what was behind it and Hawke lost her balance. She managed to land on her feet, however, and quickly ducked behind it again.

"Again!" she yelled to Fenris, "I almost had it." She attempted again with the same result, and then a third time. This time, however, the creature managed to fling her off its back with one of its rock arms and she skidded across the floor, letting out a cry of pain as a sharp, sudden shock of what felt like electricity coursed through her shoulder.

Hawke saw Fenris began to move toward her but she waved him away frantically, "I'm fine!" She forced herself to stand, fighting against the searing pain. The creature was lumbering back toward Fenris again, giving Hawke a chance to get her bearings. She glanced at Varric and Anders who were both looking exhausted. Varric was clearly getting low on bolts and Anders equally low on mana. She glanced back and Fenris again, seeing he was as winded as she was. Finally she caught site of small narrow rock near her that formed something of a ramp and she quickly formulated an idea.

Catching Fenris' attention, Hawke shouted, "Get it to come toward me."

He looked at her incredulously as he continued blocking the incoming attacks, "Are you crazy?!"

"Just do it!" she shouted impatiently. Fenris shrugged his shoulders and made his way to to the other side of the creature as he began luring it back toward Hawke's position.

Taking several steps back from the ramp, Hawke crouched slightly with her weight on the balls of her feet. Watching carefully as Fenris and the creature grew closer, she carefully timed her attack. Finally, when she felt it was finally close enough, Hawke sprinted off and took a running leap off the ramp, letting out a loud cry as pushed her feet off. Once airborne, she swiftly drew back both daggers and arched her back to build up momentum. The creature had been looking down at Fenris and by the time it noticed Hawke and tried to draw up its arms to stop her, it was too late. With a mighty shout Hawke thrust both daggers into the center of the glowing rib cage. Crying out in agony, the creature threw both arms out to its side and tilted its head back. It began glowing and crackling with red light as the entire room lit up brighter.

"Get out of there, Hawke!" Varric shouted as he scrambled down to get behind one of the pillars. Hawke couldn't hear. She was frantically trying to pull her daggers out of the beast when suddenly there was a loud crackle and an explosion, sending her flying back into one of the columns. She hit a spot that was several feet off the ground and fell the rest of the way, landing flat on her back. The room was filled with shards of rock flying past, one of them leaving a deep gash in her cheek and another in her left arm. But she couldn't feel it; she wasn't moving.

Once the dust began to settle, Varric, Fenris, and Anders scrambled out from where they had hidden themselves from the explosion.

"Hawke!" Varric shouted as soon as he saw her lying on her back, sprawled out and lifeless. Fenris' heart leapt to his throat as he ran over to her and threw himself on his knees next to her.

"Marian!" he grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up. She was still motionless. Dammit. This is not going to happen. This is not happening. Fenris was frantic. "Come on, mage, what are you doing?" He turned but saw that Anders was swiftly downing a lyrium potion. Tossing the vial behind him he rushed forward. "What's the matter with her?" Fenris stared at Anders as he began checking her over, his hands just above her body as he ran across her head, her chest, her abdomen. Finally he reached her back. Pressing one hand on the center of her back and the other hand on the front of her ribcage, Anders released a healing spell. A warm blue light washed over Hawke and within seconds, she let out a sudden gasp, her chest heaving and her eyes springing open in shock. Anders had sat back in exhaustion once he saw she was breathing.

"Marian," Fenris said again, softly this time. He pulled her up closer to him and firmly pressed his hand against her forehead, brushing her damp hair out of her face. "Amatus. Festis bei umo canavarum," he continued to whisper lovingly as she looked up to meet his gaze, still trying to reorient herself.

"What happened?" she groaned weakly.

Tears were welling up in Fenris' eyes as he replied, "I thought I had lost you." He continued to brush her hair back from her face, wiping smudges of dirt and blood away from near the fresh cut.

Hawke opened her mouth to begin asking a second question but suddenly Fenris was pulling her up closer and before she knew it, his lips were pressed firmly against hers. He kissed her gently, but there was desperation in it. As if he could keep her alive if he just kissed her long enough. It took Hawke a split second to register what was happening but once she did her heart rose in her chest and she reached up to wrap her uninjured arm around Fenris' neck, kissing him back tenderly.

After a few moments they were interrupted by Varric clearing his throat loudly from behind them and the two suddenly remembered they were not, in fact, alone. Drawing back slightly Fenris smiled at Hawke, a bit of color rising to his cheeks. She smiled back. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she smirked and said, "Well, it looks like my plan worked." Fenris laughed and drew her up into another embrace.

* * *

The group sat quietly as they each ate another half of a sandwich. They were all exhausted and still shaken from the last fight. Despite their fatigue, however, they were all feeling much more hopeful now that they had found the exit back to the main caverns of the Deep Roads.

"So what's the plan now...girly?"Varric turned to Hawke, taking a large bite of his sandwich. Hawke quickly picked up a nearby pebble and chucked at him, hitting him square in the chest. "Ow," he complained, rubbing his chest, "Don't damage the goods!" She rolled her eyes at him.

"Well?" he repeated, "What's the plan?"

"I say we get the hell out of this thaig and then figure out what we're going to do. I don't want to spend any more time in here than we have to," she shuddered.

"Agreed," Anders chimed in, sounding more cheerful than he had all week.

"All right then, let's move," she tucked her bundle of sandwiches away as Fenris stood up and reached out his hand to help her up. Rotating her sore shoulder a few times she sighed, "Maker, what I wouldn't do for a hot bath. Fenris, I'm commandeering your tub when we get back to Kirkwall. Say goodbye to it now." He chuckled, forcing his mind not to wander at the thought of her once again in his bathtub. Even still, he couldn't help but notice the sly glimmer in Hawke's eye as she spoke to him. _Yes, she will certainly be the death of me._

Making their way back through the door they found a giant spiral staircase awaiting them.

"Well," Varric whistled, "When the demon said the exit lead 'up,' it wasn't joking." The staircase spiraled away into the darkness. Once Anders lit his staff, they began to make their way up.

* * *

"I've counted 183 steps so far, Hawke," Varric panted from behind her.

Hawke sighed, "That's really not helping Varric. Anyway, I can feel a breeze now. We must be close."

"That's what you said half an hour ago." The dwarf grunted, but Hawke ignored him. It turned out she was right, however; fifteen minutes later they had reached a landing with an old, wooden door. The door creaked and groaned on its rusted hinges as Hawke pushed it open, revealing a large passage in the Deep Roads.

"Sweet blessed Andraste, at last!" Hawke dropped to her knees in exhaustion. The other three followed suit and sat down next to her, pausing to take a quick drink of water.

"Perhaps we should stop here and get some rest," Fenris suggested. Hawke wanted to argue that they should push on but she knew that she didn't have it in her to last much longer. She was struggling just to keep her eyes open.

Hawke remained silent while Anders and Varric heartily agreed. "Come on," Fenris offered Hawke his hand again. He pulled her up and wrapped her arm around his shoulder as he helped her walk toward a shallow cave in the far wall of the cavern. Anders and Varric followed.

"I don't sense any darkspawn nearby," Anders looked around, "But I'm afraid I couldn't tell you if there are spiders or not…"

"We can take turns keeping watch. I'll go first," Fenris volunteered.

"You don't have to-" Hawke started to protest but gave up when she saw the stern look on Fenris' face. _Ugh, he's right, as usual. I'm positively beat_. She sighed instead and dropped to the ground in the alcove.

"We should be protected here," Fenris said, looking around the small opening. Hawke was already busy fashioning two traps from the parts she had stored in her pack. Too tired to move, she handed them to Varric so he could set them in front of their campsite. Anders placed a few wards for good measure and he and Varric curled up on the ground, their backs to the wall of the cavern.

Fenris glanced over at Hawke, who was staring out into the darkness, hugging her knees to her chest. "Come here," he offered gently, crossing his legs as he sat. She moved over toward him and leaned up against him.

"I have a little gift for you," Fenris continued as Hawke blinked in surprise.

"How did you manage to get me a present down here?" She turned to look up at him.

"To be fair, I looted it," he laughed, "But I figured one good turn deserves another." He tugged at the chain of his medallion and she smiled. He reached into a pouch on his belt and opened his hand to reveal a stunning silver ring. It was covered in lovely, winding filigree surrounding a few small inset gemstones that were deep blue in color.

"It's beautiful," she whispered as she picked it up gently from his hand and twirled it between her fingers to get a good view of it, "Although…" she slipped on several fingers, discovering it was too big even for her thumbs.

"This probably once belonged to a dwarf," she laughed.

"Ah, I assumed that would be a problem," Fenris smiled. He turned to her and reached his arms around her neck to unclasp her necklace. His sudden nearness brought to mind their kiss earlier and Hawke immediately blushed, turning her face away in hopes that Fenris wouldn't notice. He seemed concentrated on releasing the clasp, however.

Once the necklace was free he slipped the ring on the chain and helped her refasten the necklace. The ring felt cool against her collarbone. She gingerly plucked it up and admired it a moment longer under the soft glow of Anders' staff. Fenris wrapped his arm around her, giving her a squeeze as he helped her lower herself until she was lying on her side with her head resting in Fenris' lap.

"Thank you," she said softly. He began gently combing his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face and tucking some loose strands behind her ear.

"You're welcome," he replied, then continued, "Now, I think it's been far too long since you've written in your journal. So, go ahead. I'm listening."

Hawke glanced up at him and smiled, "I don't even know what day it is anymore."

"Pick one."

She laughed, "Okay...uhm, eighth of Justinian nine thirty-"

"You're quite optimistic," he cut her off with a chuckle and she shrugged.

"Don't talk back to me, journal." She poked his knee in admonition and then cleared her throat, "As I was saying, eighth of Justinian nine thirty-one Dragon. I killed some kind of enormous rock monster today, I'm eager to hear Varric's retelling though, and whatever crazy name he comes up with. Although, I'm not sure how anyone could improve on the truth of the events..." her voice dropped to a soft murmur as she continued, Fenris still stroking her hair, until she eventually gave in to the languor and drifted off into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **Again, I took quite a bit of creative liberty here and continued factoring in my own theories about some of the mysteries that remain the DA universe. Hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is welcome!

* * *

Hawke slowly opened her eyes as a soft grey light filled her vision. It was blinding at first, compared to the dark of the Deep Roads, but as her eyes began to adjust, she was able to see her surroundings clearly. The grey light was diffused by a soft mist, limiting her field of vision. Glancing around, Hawke's eyes widened in awe. She didn't know where she was, but it was beautiful. _Surely this is a dream. But I have never seen the Fade like this before. _

She seemed to be outdoors, yet her footsteps echoed as though she were in a hall. On the ground, many square stone slabs were randomly scattered - the remains of an ancient road. Lovely, haunting trees stood every few yards with perfectly straight trunks that reached up until they bowed out into a goblet shape; instead of a solid chalice, however, the bowl was made of wide, curving branches that reached up, as though they were encircling a perfect sphere.

Among the trees stood strange monuments. They almost looked like doors but they did not appear to open. Each stood on a marble base with several small steps leading up to it. As Hawke walked around to observe some more closely, she realized they were mirrors. Many were shattered, and the ones that weren't only held a dark reflection; nothing like a mirrors she was familiar with.

As she continued to walk, trying to take in everything around her, she came upon a mirror that was quite different from the others. Instead of glass, it held a strange blue barrier of some kind; it looked like water on the surface of the pond, rippling when she touched it. The barrier gave off a soft blue light. It was inviting her. Calling to her. Slowly, Hawke stepped forward, her right arm extended in front of her. She watched as she pushed it through the mirror and felt a strange tingling sensation flood and warm her body instantly. It reminded her of Fenris' lyrium markings.

Inhaling deeply, Hawke pushed off of her back foot and stepped through the mirror. Suddenly, she was somewhere else entirely. Lush greenery surrounded her and the sound of birds could be heard overhead. Bright floral vines hung from the trees next to her and a warm breeze washed over her as she stepped away from the mirror.

Hawke's heart skipped a beat when she realized she wasn't alone. Someone was on the path ahead of her, kneeling on the ground and hunched over something that she couldn't see. As Hawke approached the man, her vision suddenly grew foggy and the light grew brighter around her. She continued to press on until she was next to him. Looking down, she froze in horror. _The lyrium idol. This…this is the carving on the lyrium idol. _Just as she had seen on the strange object they discovered in the thaig, a man was hunched over holding a woman's dead body. Suddenly, the man –no, he was an elf - looked up. His eyes were glowing white and it felt as though he were staring into her very soul. Hawke stumbled backward and closed her eyes tightly, trying to shake the image from her head.

Suddenly, Hawke felt cold. She cautiously begin to open her eyes again, but the light was gone. She was back in the Deep Roads, lying in Fenris' lap.

_It was a dream after all. I have never experienced something so vivid. It felt so real._ Hawke blinked a few times letting her eyes adjust to the black. Anders' staff was dark again, but a very soft glow emanated from the wards he had placed in front of them. But, there was another light several yards beyond that. _A campfire?! _Hawke's eyes grew wide. _Surely if it were darkspawn, Anders would have noticed. _Her heart was racing. She began to turn her head to look at Fenris when she felt him squeeze her arm firmly. She turned her head the rest of the way and saw that he, too, was watching the campfire. He had his finger pressed to his lips, telling her to remain silent. Hawke stopped moving and tried to listen. She heard soft footsteps shuffling around near the fire, occasionally seeing a shadow as someone – something? – passed in front of the flames. The whisper of voices caught her ear, but she couldn't make out what was being said. Fenris motioned for Hawke to stand up and she did so as quietly as she could. She carefully unsheathed her daggers, managing to not make any noise. Fenris followed suit and wielded his sword. Glancing down, Hawke saw that Varric and Anders were still sound asleep; attempting to wake them was not an option.

Hawke stealthily made her way around the traps and wards they had laid. Fenris followed close behind as they approached the fire. She noted three figures in the dark, all standing near each other, whispering. All at once, Hawke realized she recognized their armor.

"I wonder what the odds are of running into the Grey Wardens in the Deep Roads," Hawke spoke up clearly yet quietly. She expected them to immediately ready themselves for combat, but instead, they casually turned to face her, leaving their weapons untouched. It was then that the shortest one stepped forward into the firelight.

Before Hawke stood one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen; there was something almost haunting about her appearance. She had rich brown skin, unblemished except for a jagged scar that ran from her jawline to her collarbone. Her untamed, raven-colored hair reached just past her ears with a bright silver streak crossing above her left brow. Her eyes were amber colored and glowed bright in the light of the fire. Although she was slightly shorter than Hawke, everything about her posture was commanding.

"These days?" the woman replied in a low, husky voice. "Pretty slim. There are few of us left in Fereldan." She casually reached her arm up to run her finger along the string of the bow that was slung over her back.

The Warden continued, "I am more surprised, however, to find a small group of adventurers alive down here." She paused and stared at Hawke, clearly waiting for a response.

"We were…separated from an expedition that was attempting to find a lost thaig." Hawke offered carefully, unsure of how much she could trust this woman.

"I see," the Warden replied distractedly as she squatted down in front of the fire, warming her hands. "Well it is a good thing you have a Warden of your own with you then." She looked up at Hawke and Fenris with a small smile on her face, her eyes sparkling.

Hawke furrowed her brow, gripping her daggers tighter. "What makes you say that?"

The woman was looking back at the fire, "Your mage," she jerked her head in the direction of their camp, but didn't shift her gaze from the fire. "He's a Warden, yes?" After a few moments of silence, she laughed softly and stood, once again facing Hawke and Fenris. Hawke felt Fenris shift uncomfortably as he stood next to her. "And does your elven friend not speak?" The Warden addressed Hawke.

"I prefer to listen when I am faced with an unknown presence." He replied coldly.

The Warden regarded him for a moment and then nodded in agreement, "Wise words." She brushed her hands together and addressed Hawke again, "Well, regardless of whether or not you believe me, we are no danger to you." Her two companions stepped forward slightly. Hawke had forgotten them as she had been so enamored with the female Warden. One of the other two was a male elf with a staff in his hand, undoubtedly a mage. The third was a middle-aged man who leaned on a large mace and had a beautiful bronze shield strapped to his back.

"And who might you be?" Hawke addressed the female Warden. The woman looked at her as if surprised at first, but then a smirk appeared on her lips.

"You may simply call me Warden. My name is of no consequence."

Hawke sheathed her daggers and offered her hand to the Warden who took it and shook heartily, "And you may simply call me Hawke." She smiled.

"And your broody friend?" The Warden glanced again at Fenris, who had returned his sword to his back. He crossed his arms and sighed as Hawke attempted to stifle a laugh, but she ended up just snorting.

"I'm Fenris. And I am not brooding." But he offered his hand anyway and the Warden shook it firmly.

"Given your circumstances, I imagine you're looking for a way out of the Deep Roads. Where might you be heading?"

"Kirkwall is home," Hawke replied.

"I see. I'm afraid you're several days from Kirkwall," noticing the discouraged expression on Hawke's face, the Warden continued, "But it's only a half a day's journey to the surface." She smiled.

Hawke's gaze snapped up from the ground to meet the Warden's eyes, "Half a day?" She whispered hoarsely.

"Yes indeed," the Warden laughed, "And lucky for you, we've cleared out most of the darkspawn and spiders." She winked.

Fenris looked over at Hawke, "We should wake the others. If it's such a short distance to the surface, we ought not to spend any more time down here than necessary." Despite his curt manner, Hawke could see the relief in his expression. Hawke just nodded but didn't shift. Fenris left her to speak with the Warden as he went to wake Varric and Anders.

"Your accent is Fereldan," Hawke spoke up, "I thought the remaining Grey Wardens were primarily Orlesian."

"You thought correctly," the Warden looked away, her expression suddenly sad, but her voice still bright, "I am indeed from Fereldan, however." Hawke wanted to ask where specifically but got the impression that it was not a topic the Warden wished to discuss. Instead, she moved up to sit in front of the fire as the Warden joined her. The other two Wardens sat in silence on the opposite side of the fire. The mage was writing in a small leather-bound journal and the warrior was polishing his shield, staring at the flames of the fire. They sat in silence for a few minutes until they heard the rest of the group approaching from behind them. Hawke stood to face the others but the Warden only shifted slightly to turn and look back at the others.

As Varric and Anders stepped into the light of the fire, Hawke saw Anders turn white and stop in his tracks. He was staring at the Warden. Hawke glanced down and saw the Warden meet his gaze as she gave a small but firm shake of her head as if to say "no." Anders shifted his weight to lean on his staff, his expression still pale as he stared at the ground.

"Something I should know?" Hawke asked, crossing her arms.

Anders shook his head, "No, I just – I didn't expect to see the Grey Wardens again. It—it caught me by surprise." He swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact with Hawke. She didn't press the issue.

Varric was busy introducing himself to the group, already asking numerous questions; undoubtedly "research" for his stories. Hawke sat next to the Warden again, one leg bent with her elbow resting on her knee.

"Why don't you join us for some coffee before you begin your journey home?" the Warden suddenly spoke, smiling warmly at Hawke.

"Coffee?" Hawke's eyes widened again; she was sure the Warden saw the sudden delight in her expression. The Warden just laughed.

"Yes indeed. It is the one luxury I refuse to forgo. Even in the Deep Roads," she winked again as she stood to gather up a pot and small sack. She went to work preparing the coffee as Fenris sat down and joined Hawke. Hawke noticed that Anders was keeping his distance as he sat alone, further back from the fire.

Hawke nudged Fenris as she raised her eyebrows and whispered excitedly, "Coffee!"

Fenris chuckled, "Yes, indeed. I think you will find you like it." He smiled, recalling their discussion in the mess tent the other day, "Although, it is unlikely the Warden has also brought sugar. I find coffee tastes better when it's sweetened."

"I don't care," Hawke shrugged, "I just want to try it!" Fenris laughed again and wrapped his arm around Hawke's shoulder. They continued to talk idly about what it might be like to go home, to sleep in real beds, to eat a good home-cooked meal, and to see Hawke's family again.

After some time, a wonderful smell began to reach Hawke's nose; it was warm and invigorating and heavenly. _If that's the coffee, I feel I've been missing out on something wonderful my whole life. With the fortune that we've salvaged from the vault in the thaig, I plan to buy coffee as soon as we're settled back into our family home._ Hawke looked up to see the Warden approaching them with two tin mugs in her hands.

The Warden handed one cup to Hawke and the other to Fenris. Holding the cups in both hands, Hawke felt the warmth creep up from her finger tips to her shoulders. She raised the mug to her nose and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She felt Fenris' amused gaze as he watched her but she paid him no mind. Carefully, she took a sip. She nearly choked as a grimace formed on her face. Fenris and the Warden both burst out laughing.

"I thought you said this was supposed to be good?" she gave Fenris an accusatory glance.

"I think you'll find you might like it with some sugar," the Warden spoke up, still chuckling. She leaned over and dropped two cubes of sugar into the mug and offered her a small wooden spoon for stirring.

Once the sugar had dissolved, Hawke decided to give it another try, offering up a wary glance at Fenris before raising the mug to her lips once again. This time, the experience was quite different. She felt the hot liquid running down her throat until her body was warmed through.

"This is so much better than tea." She sighed contentedly.

"I'm glad you enjoy it," the Warden smiled as she returned to the fire to pour herself a cup of coffee as well.

Fenris had nearly finished his coffee as Hawke continued sipping hers slowly, savoring every drop.

"I can't believe what a difference the sugar makes!" she looked over to Fenris again.

"When we get back to Kirkwall, you will have to try it with cream as well. I think you will be pleasantly surprised."

The conversation shifted back to talk of going home again. Every so often, Hawke would catch the Warden watching Anders carefully, though he seemed not to notice as he was staring into his mug the whole time. Hawke was unable to read the expression on the Warden's face, but she almost detected a hint of sadness. _Who is this woman, really? Why do I get the feeling she's hiding something?_ Hawke thought to herself as she watched the enigma that was the Warden out of the corner of her eye. Despite how little Hawke knew of her, she felt she could trust her implicitly somehow. In fact, Hawke felt like this was someone she could look up to, someone deserving of respect and admiration. She was almost envious.

Hawke's thoughts continue to drift until finally she was interrupted by the Warden announcing it was time for everyone to move on.

"We have a long journey ahead of us," the Warden motioned toward her two companions, "And so do you." She looked again at Hawke.

"I cannot thank you enough –" Hawke began but the Warden interrupted her by holding her hand up and shaking her head.

"Please don't. I only ask that you not mention to anyone that you encountered us down here," her gaze was piercing.

"Of course, as you wish," Hawke stammered, shaken by the expression on the Warden's face. The rest of the group agreed, though Anders only nodded, looking off into the blackness.

Once she instructed the group on how to reach the exit, the Warden extended her hand to Hawke and they shook hands once more.

"May the Maker watch over you," she smiled as she held Hawke's hand firmly.

"And you," Hawke replied. She released her hand and watched for a moment as the Wardens finished putting out their campfire and began heading down the passage under torchlight.

Finally snapping back to attention, Hawke turned to the group, "Well, friends. Shall we go home then?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Almost to the end of part one! I plan to continue on to part two right away in the same document just to make things easier to find and follow. Part one will finish roughly where Act I finished.

**Update 4/7/15: **added note about timeline discrepancy at end of chapter.

* * *

The journey to the surface was uneventful; the Wardens had indeed cleared the path. The group stopped once for a bite to eat and then trudged along to the exit – yet another large stone door. Even as they approached the doorway, Hawke could feel a draft of warm summer air. Compared to the stench of the Deep Roads, the scent was heavenly.

As the four heaved open the heavy door, they were suddenly blinded by the bright sunlight that came pouring into the cavern. After allowing their eyes to adjust for a few minutes, they stepped into the outdoors to get their bearings.

They were standing on a low hill looking out across a golden meadow. Not more than a mile ahead of them was a wide dirt road. Looking to the north, Hawke noticed the skyline of a town.

"Tantervale," Varric spoke up. "That's promising. That would make this the main road heading south toward Kirkwall – and that means we can't be too far from Wildervale. And from Wildervale, we can hire a cart that can get us to Kirkwall in less than a day." He turned and grinned at the others.

"Thank the Maker," Anders sighed heavily. That was the first he'd spoken more than one word together since their encounter with the Wardens. They all took a moment to adjust their packs, heavy with the spoils from the thaig, and then slowly began making their way toward the road.

They grew hot in the sun as they made their way south. They eventually came upon a small brook where they stopped to soak their feet and refill their water skins. Settling down on a rock next to the stream, Hawke removed her cuirass and boots. _Andraste's wet mabari, I must smell awful. _She laughed to herself as she waded in the spring, using one of her handkerchiefs to wash her legs and arms in the fresh, cool water. Fenris followed her lead and removed his armor, rolling his leggings up to his knees. He sat on a boulder that rested in the middle of the stream and stretched his legs out in front of him, letting the water flow over his sore legs and feet.

After rinsing her hair in the stream, Hawke made her way over to Fenris and sat on the rock behind him so they were back to back. She leaned into him and stretched her legs out as well, placing her hands to her sides on the rock to help support herself. She smiled as Fenris reached one of his hands over and placed it on top of one of hers, weaving their fingers together.

Hawke had been resting against Fenris with her eyes closed for a few moments when he finally spoke, "So, you really didn't recognize her?" Hawke turned her head a bit so she could hear him better.

"Recognize who?"

"That Warden. The woman."

"Ah, yes," Hawke felt a momentary twinge of jealousy as she realized he had been thinking about someone else, "No, I didn't recognize her. Should I have?"

"Considering that you're Ferelden, I would have imagined you'd know who she is." She could feel the smile in Fenris' voice.

Hawke idly swished her feet back and forth in the stream, waiting for Fenris to continue.

"Your own Hero? Savior of the fifth blight?" He paused for effect, "...your queen?"

Hawke nearly lost her balance as she scrambled to sit upright. Her sudden motion caused her to splash water, nearly soaking her and Fenris.

Fenris laughed as he shifted so they were now sitting side by side on the rock. Hawke was staring into the water, her eyes wide. She suddenly groaned, covering her eyes with her hand in embarrassment, "I drank coffee with the Queen of Ferelden and I didn't even know it was her."

Hawke drew her bare feet up onto the rock, pulling her knees up under her chin. She stared down at her toes as she recalled the encounter in the Deep Roads. "She must have thought me a complete idiot." Hawke sighed, her face still red.

"I doubt that," Fenris laughed, taking her hand again, squeezing it between both of his. "In fact, she seemed rather impressed by you."

Hawke jerked her head to make eye contact with him, "Impressed? Surely not." He just smiled knowingly.

"Well," Hawke continued, "That explains why Anders has been so quiet."

"That's right, he knew the queen when he was in Amarathine. I remember him going on about it."

Hawke laughed, "He didn't just _know _her. He was in _love_ with her." She sighed, shaking her head. They both glanced up the stream where Anders was kneeling on the grass, splashing water on his face.

"Figures. He's always been a fool." Fenris grumbled.

"Yes, well, that's apparently what his discussion with Bethany was about, the night before we left on the expedition." Fenris threw her on odd glance that she couldn't quite interpret. "What?" Hawke inquired, squinting in the sunlight.

"Nothing," Fenris shrugged, looking away again. _So Marian thinks he turned down Bethany because of the queen? That explains why she's been so blind to his behavior toward her. I suppose I should be relieved. _

"So how did you know who she was?" Hawke inquired.

"She visited Tevinter once right after her coronation; just before the trip to – before I escaped." He caught himself. "I had to accompany Danarius to the palace the evening of her visit."

Before Hawke could ask any more questions, Fenris stood and offered his hand to her. "We'd better get moving if we want to reach Wildervale before nightfall." He glanced up in the sky, noting the location of the sun. It would begin to set in just a few hours.

Using Fenris' hand for support, Hawke pulled herself up off the rock and headed back to the shore where the rest of her armor lay. She suited up again and laced up her boots, cringing at how sore her feet still were. She waited for Fenris to get the rest of his armor on and they met up with Varric and Anders at the edge of the road. The group headed back on their journey south.

* * *

Dusk was just beginning to settle on the Free Marches as the group caught sight of the glow of lights not far off in the distance. Wildervale was finally in sight, causing all four of them to pick up their pace. They were all eager to get a hot meal and good night's rest.

The town was quite a bit larger than Lothering. It reminded Hawke of Redcliffe, a village not far from Lothering; they often went there if they needed supplies they couldn't find in their own town. Even though it was after dark, it was still early enough that the streets were bustling and pie vendors were still about.

Varric knew of an inn that he claimed served the best stew in the Free Marches, and also had the best mead. Hawke looked longingly at the hot pastries a young woman was selling as they passed her and headed toward the inn.

They were able to procure two rooms for the night; one with a single bed, the other with two cots. Everyone seemed to just assume what the arrangements would be for the night and Hawke and Fenris were comfortable with it this time – they had come a long way since the tent fiasco at the beginning of the expedition. After depositing their belongings in the rooms and locking the doors, all four headed down to the main room of the inn where they ordered some of the famous stew. Anders and Varric immediately ordered pints of the mead. Hawke was about to inquire about the wine when she saw Fenris place a bottle in front of her, already opened. It was the aggregio. She had completely forgotten he brought it with them; that had seemed like ages ago.

"Oh sweet, merciful Maker," Hawke sighed, reaching for the bottle. After their time in the Deep Roads, it tasted like she had died and gone to the Golden City. She and Fenris continued sharing the bottle once their food arrived, along with a large loaf of piping hot bread and a slab of fresh butter.

"Surely we died in the Deep Roads," Hawke mumbled as she shoved another piece of buttery, crusty bread in her mouth, "And this is the Fade." They all laughed but the conversation was minimal, since they were so focused on the food. _I have to admit, Varric was right about this stew. _Hawke thought as she scraped her bowl clean. The barmaid was already bringing more bowls, as if she had read their minds.

Hawke grabbed the barmaid's wrist as she set the bowl down. "You must be Andraste incarnate," Hawke whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes. The wine was clearly taking effect.

Fenris laughed as he released Hawke's grip and apologized to the poor, confused woman.

"She's sooo beautiful," Hawke sighed, returning to her meal. As she reached for the wine again, Fenris quickly pulled it out of her reach. She stared daggers into him.

"You're going to make yourself sick at this pace," he shook his head, still smiling in amusement.

"Whatever you say, _mom._" Hawke rolled her eyes. She was too tired to argue. Hawke managed two more bites of the stew before she found it difficult to keep her eyes open. As the town clock chimed the tenth bell, Fenris stood and began to help her up.

"She's much more beautiful than Bethany," Hawke sighed, leaning heavily on Fenris. He glanced back at the barmaid. She certainly was not unattractive, but she was older than Bethany and far frailer.

"That barmaid has nothing on your sister," he tried to comfort a very tipsy Hawke, who seemed rather upset.

"Mmmnooo, not her," Hawke hiccupped, "The queen. No wonder Anders prefers to pine for her instead of my sister."

Fenris sighed, "Anders doesn't deserve your sister. Please stop worrying about it." But he knew it was a wasted argument. Hawke wasn't thinking clearly. He carefully led her up the stairs to their room, listening to her ramble on about how lovely the Warden Queen was.

Once they returned to their room, Hawke flung herself onto the bed, on her back, with a sigh. Fenris stood, crossing his arms in frustration. He was tired and wanted sleep.

"You're not going to sleep very well fully armored," he tapped his foot impatiently. Hawke propped herself up on her elbows and smirked at him.

"Why, Fenris," she slurred. "Are you propositioning me?" He sighed dropping his head into his hand.

"You need sleep, Hawke," he responded, ignoring her question.

"Fine," she sounded a bit annoyed but swung her legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood trying to regain her balance. Fenris quickly turned away toward the wash stand as he saw her begin to strip her armor off rather hurriedly. _Gods, save me from this woman, _he thought wryly as her heard the familiar jingle of her armor behind him. He removed his tunic and began rinsing his face and scrubbing his hands in the cool water in the wash basin. As he was patting his face and neck dry he heard a small, startled cry from behind him. He turned quickly to discover Hawke had fallen back into the small wooden chair in the corner of the room, wearing nothing but her small clothes and her boots.

Fenris swallowed the lump forming in his throat and clenched his fists in frustration as he tried to ignore the way his heart was racing and how warm he suddenly felt. _The wine was a terrible idea,_ he chided himself. _You should have known better. _As he reached her chair he could tell she now seemed irritated that she couldn't remove her boots. She sighed tiredly as she dropped her elbows to her knees and rested her head in her hands.

"Here," Fenris offered, clearing his throat. He knelt in front of her to untie her boots, fighting the urge to let his gaze go any higher than the top of the boot. After he had pulled both boots off he stood, still avoiding looking directly at her, and helped her up. He waited as she climbed into the bed, on top of the covers. Despite his best efforts he found himself staring at her bare legs – they were even more beautiful than he could remember. _Calm yourself, Fenris. _He clenched his jaw, forcing his gaze to her face; he stood next to the bed as she was already beginning to drift off to sleep. He carefully pulled the blanket from under her and draped it over her as she shifted to her side with her back facing him. Her breath dropped to the deep, slow breathing of sleep and he sighed, relieved. He carefully crawled under the blanket next to her and lay on his back, cautious not to brush up against her lest he wake her.

The worn mattress of the bed at the inn felt like a cloud compared to the hard stone floor of the Deep Roads. It wasn't as comfortable as the bed in Danarius' Kirkwall mansion, but at that moment it could have been a bed in the Winter Palace. Fenris sighed contentedly thinking about going back to "his" bed. _Home, _he thought. _I never thought I'd have someplace I could consider home. Somewhere to go to. Somewhere I would _want_ to go to. And I never thought there'd be someone in my life I'd want to share it with. _He glanced over at the back of Hawke as she slept peacefully, and he smiled.

* * *

A/N: User EkoCentric pointed out that Fenris escaped Danarius during the events of the fifth blight and therefore could not have encountered the queen of Ferelden after her coronation. Just chalk this up to an adjustment in the timeline for the story. (Thanks for the catch, EkoCentric!)


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: **This is the final chapter of Part I (which includes the original story from which this continues). Part II will be contained in this same document, just for ease of finding it and managing it. Hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is very much welcome, and be sure to leave a review!

* * *

It was mid-morning by the time Hawke and the others departed the Wildervale. They had managed to obtain space on a merchant's cart heading to Kirkwall. It was cramped, but it was preferable to yet another day spent on foot. It was hot again that day, but overcast with the scent of rain in the air. Hawke and Varric sat side by side on the back of the cart, letting their legs dangle over the edge. They were chatting about the events of the past week. Anders had climbed up in front to sit next to the merchant and Fenris was lounging against a crate behind Hawke.

"Do you think your brother will come back to Kirkwall?" Hawke inquired after a few moments of silence had passed.

"If only I were that lucky," he laughed, but Hawke could see the pain in his face.

"I'm sorry, Varric," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I can't even imagine that kind of betrayal."

"I should have seen it coming. I'll find that maggot if it's the last thing I do." Varric clenched his fists as he stared off into the distance.

"You can't blame yourself," Hawke squeezed his shoulder, "As much of an ass as he was, I never thought he'd be capable of leaving his own brother for dead. He…didn't seem like himself once he caught sight of the idol."

"No, you're right. As bad as he was, I never thought him capable of that, either," Varric furrowed his brow and then shook his head as if trying to free the memory. "Anyway, enough about that. Despite Bartrand's best efforts, we're going to be very wealthy now. You can get your family home back."

Hawke smiled at the thought, "It is hard to regret what happened, knowing now that I can take proper care of my family. Mother will be thrilled to return to Hightown and be counted among the nobility again."

"And poor Gamlen will be all on his own again."

Hawke snorted a laugh as she gave Varric a side hug, "What would I ever do without my trusty dwarf to help me see the bright side."

* * *

A light mist was falling on Lowtown early that evening as Hawke, Varric, and Fenris headed toward Gamlen's house. Anders had gone directly to Darktown upon their arrival, anxious to see if anyone was in need of his help – though Hawke suspected he was trying to avoid seeing Bethany. Rather than stopping at the Hanged Man on the way, Varric opted to join Hawke and Fenris, as he was eager to check up on Bethany.

They were laughing at one of Varric's stories about Bartrand as they rounded the corner to Gamlen's house. Suddenly, Hawke's laugh stopped cold and she froze in place. Fenris and Varric followed her gaze toward the stoop of the hovel. Two templars stood on either side of the stairway.

"No…" Hawke whispered as her heart began racing. She broke into a sprint, pushing past the Templars as they tried to stop her. She flung the door open and slid to a stop as soon as she entered the house. Bethany and her mother were standing in the main room along with Knight-Captain Cullen.

"What's going on?" Hawke demanded, though she knew very well what the answer would be. She threw and icy gaze at Cullen as he stepped forward between her and Bethany.

"Please don't do anything," Bethany pleaded softly, noticing her sister raising her hands as if she was about to reach for her daggers.

Cullen took another step toward Hawke, "Mistress Bethany is being taken to the Circle of Magi in the Gallows."

Hawke felt as though a weight had slammed into her chest. Her legs suddenly grew weak as she let the reality of the situation sink in slowly. She glanced at her mother, whose eyes were red and swollen from crying. _I've failed. I've completely and utterly failed my family, _Hawke thought as she looked at the pained expressions on her mother's and Bethany's faces.

"You can't go there," her words to Bethany were weak, as if she was begging someone to stop what was happening.

"I have to," Bethany sighed bitterly. "That's where apostates go, isn't it?"

"Consider yourselves fortunate," Cullen spoke again as Hawke leveled an piercing gaze on him. "Your sister's cooperation allows us to spare you the punishment for harboring a dangerous mage."

Leandra turned toward Bethany and frantically grabbed her hand to squeeze it between her own, "Oh, Bethany…what will happen to you?" Tears began running down her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Mother," Bethany freed one of her hands and placed it on Leandra's cheek. "I'll be fine."

She slowly pulled away from her mother and turned to Hawke, "Look after her, Marian."

Hawke couldn't respond. She merely nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She stood helpless as she watched Cullen escort Bethany out of the house. As the door opened she could hear Varric arguing with the Templars outside, clearly trying to get past them.

"Sunshine…" she heard Varric gasp as he saw her being led out of the house while Cullen pulled the door closed behind them.

As soon as the latch clicked into place, Leandra fell to the ground sobbing. Hawke dropped on her knees next to her trying to comfort her, but in too much pain to know what to do. Bethany was gone. After all those years of running and hiding, she had been caught. It all seemed so pointless. She felt powerless to stop what had happened, and that was a feeling she was very uncomfortable with. There was always a way out before, always someone or something to fight and gain victory over.

Hawke's sorrow began to turn to rage as she thought of all they had been through to prevent this exact scenario. _I will not give up this easily, not while I still breathe. _ She stood without a word to her mother and, with fresh determination, made her way swiftly to the door.

Fenris and Varric were standing at the bottom of the steps watching Bethany and the Templars leave when they heard the door slam. Hawke unsheathed her daggers as she made her way down the steps.

"Marian, don't," Fenris grabbed her arm as he realized what she was about to do. She tried to pull away but he only tightened his grip. "You'll doom her to tranquility if you do this. And you'll likely be killed yourself."

"I can't just stand here and do nothing!" Hawke cried, tugging against Fenris' grip again.

"We all knew this day would come, Hawke," Varric spoke up, softly. "No one could have prevented it. You couldn't hide forever."

Hawke stared as Bethany disappeared around the corner. Once she was out of sight, Hawke dropped her daggers in the dirt and fell to her knees. She was overwhelmed with sorrow, anger, frustration, and fear – but the tears wouldn't come. Fenris sat down next to her, unsure of what he could say that might comfort her. He felt helpless. He wasn't used to seeing her in such a vulnerable state and he didn't know how to react. So he sat in silence next to Hawke and began gently rubbing her back as she stared quietly at the corner where Bethany had vanished.

Varric gave Hawke a pat on the shoulder and simply said, "You know where to find me if you need me." He slowly headed to the Hanged Man, shoulders slumped.

"I should go back to Mother," Hawke finally spoke after what seemed like hours of silence; she had grown cold and damp in the light rain that was falling now. Fenris said nothing as he stood up and offered her his hand. She turned to head up the steps when Fenris spoke.

"I – I don't know how I can help, but if there's anything you need please let me know," he smiled weakly.

"Thank you, Fenris. I don't know what I need right now, but I know my mother needs me."

Fenris simply nodded and watched her as she entered the house.

* * *

Hawke found Leandra lying in her bed, curled up, and clutching one of Bethany's scarves. Hawke removed her boots and slid into the bed next to her mother, wrapping her arms around her.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she whispered, kissing her on the forehead. "I'm so sorry."

"Why did you have to go to the Deep Roads? Why did you leave us?" Leandra began crying again. Her accusation stung Hawke as she squeezed her mother closer.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing she could think to say. She stayed there with her mother until night fell and the room grew dark. Finally her mother's sniffles turned to heavy, slow breathing as she finally fell asleep. Hawke heard Gamlen enter the house and she went to speak to him, careful not to wake her mother. She explained everything that had happened and was surprised to see true sadness in his face; he never seemed concerned for other people before, but Hawke could tell he was now.

"I need to get out of here, get some fresh air," Hawke rubbed her forehead, "Can you—"

"Do what you need," he cut her off, giving her an awkward squeeze on the shoulder – clearly trying to show affection. "I'll take care of Leandra."

Hawke was astonished but did not reply for fear of ruining the moment. She merely nodded a thank you and slipped her boots back on, heading out of the house. She didn't know where she would go; she just needed to move, to get out of the stuffy hovel. As she wandered toward Hightown she recalled Fenris' words from earlier that day. She did not want to burden him, but she also did not want to be alone.

* * *

Fenris woke from his sleep to the sound of a knock at his door. It was still dark, the room lit only by the soft glow of embers still burning in the fireplace. He grabbed up his sword as a precaution and headed downstairs, opening the door to a very tired, red-eyed Hawke.

"Mother's sleeping now," she said quickly, before he had a chance to react. "I can't…I just don't want to be alone right now. I'm sorry if I woke you up, but I didn't know where else to go and you said if I needed anything—"

"Slow down," he smiled as he interrupted her rambling. "I told you I'm here if you need me. Come in." It was nice to be able to be there for her, for a change – despite the circumstances. He took her by the elbow and guided her up the stairs and sat her down on one of the velvet chairs in his room. He took the chair opposite her. Hawke curled her legs up under her and stared at the fire.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Fenris ventured after a few minutes had passed.

"I don't even know what to say at this point, I'm exhausted," she sighed, and then looked at him. "Could you talk? About, I don't know, anything. I just need a distraction."

"All right," he agreed, giving it some thought. "Do you know about Shartan?"

"A little. He was the elf who fought for the freedom of the elven slaves of Tevinter. I know the Chantry considers him a heretic, so I don't know much more than that."

"Well, let me tell you about him, then," he smiled as he began telling Hawke the story, remembering the rare moments he had with some of the slaves at court, as they had once told Fenris the story. It was dangerous, but it was something the slaves had that could not be taken from them. He continued talking well into the night until at last, Hawke was sleeping. Carefully and quietly, he scooped her up from the chair and laid her down in the bed, removing her boots and covering her with a blanket. Although she was asleep, her brow was still furrowed with worry and pain.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and leaned to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry, _amatus_," he whispered. "Things can only get better from here." And for once in his life, he believed it himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Here begins part two. Rather than allow a three-year gap, I am stretching the various events of Act 2 across the three years, adding some stuff of my own. As usual, not strictly canon, lots of liberties. I also plan to go back and make a few tweaks to my first chapters, but I'll let you know when that happens. Nothing major. Anyway, here's the first chapter of Part II, which loosely follows Act 2 of the game. The next chapter is well on its way also, so expect that one pretty soon! As usual, feedback is welcome and reviews are appreciated!

* * *

**PART II**

_1st of Firstfall, 9:31 Dragon - First night of Satinalia_

I apologize, Journal (and to you as well, Varric). It has been several weeks since I last wrote anything, and even then, my last entries have been rather hasty and dull. Life has been a whirlwind since the return from the Deep Roads – first with Bethany going to the Circle and then working with Mother to reclaim the Amell estate. As I had mentioned previously, things went much more smoothly once we had coin with which to "talk." Within a month, we had the deed to the estate and we were reinstated as nobility in Kirkwall.

Tonight will be the first night we get to spend in the mansion, though. It took some time to repair and restore the house. There is still a lot of work to be done but all the necessities are in place, and my new bed was delivered today! I'm lying on it right now as I write this. I have never experienced anything so comfortable in all my life. It cost a pretty penny but I'd rather spend my coin on this than a bunch of frilly dresses, as Mother keeps insisting. I finally caved and bought two though, just to appease her. They're tucked safely in the back of my new wardrobe, and will hopefully not see the light of day any time soon. Except I just remembered that I promised to wear one to the Satinalia feast at the Keep this week. Drat.

Life without Bethany has been difficult, but we're learning to adjust. She and I write each other at least twice each week, and Mother and I have been allowed to visit, albeit briefly, on three occasions now. I've done my best to butter up the Knight-Captain and stay in his good graces. It seems to work to our advantage, though, as he has become a bit less wary of my requests and less suspicious that I might try to break her out. After a long talk with Fenris one evening soon after Bethany's departure, I finally came to the realization that it was in everyone's best interest that I not try to get her out of the Gallows and go on the lam with my family once again. We are settled here. Bethany is safe. I have come to terms with the situation, though I'm still heartbroken.

Onto a less depressing subject: My friends! I have not seen much of my friends since returning, but I still try to get down to the Hanged Man at least one night a week – Fenris usually joins me. Varric is, of course, always there – in fact, he bought a 50% share in the tavern upon his return, much to his delight. Anders rarely shows up these days. He's been busy at the clinic, but he's also been stewing in his hatred, more than usual, for all things Templar, Chantry, and Circle.

Isabela is usually there, as well, if she's not off doing Maker-knows-what with Maker-knows-who (though I suspect she is actually seeking out her mysterious relic in earnest – it seems a touchy subject so I've stopped inquiring). Since returning, she and have actually grown closer, oddly enough. She has also apparently given up on trying to bed Fenris and has been much friendlier (platonically…) with him as well.

Aveline makes the effort to join us from time-to-time as well, despite how busy she is as Guard Captain now. Oh, and Merrill of course. She comes nearly every night as well – and almost never loses her way now! Even she has been getting along better with Fenris now. The only one who doesn't seem to be is Anders, of course – but the feeling is, as always, mutual.

Ah, Fenris. Where do I even begin…?

* * *

Hawke sighed, twirling her quill loosely between her fingers. She was lying on her stomach on the bed with the journal open in front of her and the ink bottle sitting on her bedside table, just within reach. She stared wistfully at the engravings on her headboard as she thought on the past few months with Fenris.

_How do I put into words something I don't understand? _Hawke thought, frowning in concentration. _I don't know what we are, and I'm pretty damn sure Fenris doesn't either. We're friends, of course, but obviously much more than that. Lovers? No_. She laughed sardonically. _I think that requires a much more…physical level of intimacy. Andraste's flaming ass, we've only kissed twice! And they weren't exactly the kind of heated, passionate kisses that lovers would share._ Their first kiss, of course, had been in the Deep Roads after the encounter with the rock wraith. Their second kiss… Hawke picked up her quill, dipped it in the ink well, and began writing furiously, realizing she had missed documenting the event in her neglect of her journal.

How did I miss writing about our second kiss? Well, I wasn't in the mood for journaling that day, or that whole week. It had been the anniversary of father's death. He was walking me home from the Hanged Man, and I'm afraid I was rather tipsy (okay, okay _drunk_) from the brandy I had been downing to try to numb the pain. I vaguely remember crying a little and going on about how alone I felt. As we reached the front door of Gamlen's house he gently lifted my chin and kissed me – so sweetly. Despite my fuzzy memory overall that evening, I remember that brief moment clear as day. "I will remind you again of my promise, Marian. I'm here if you need me. You are not alone." Those were his words, and I'm afraid I remember little else of what was said after that, but I do remember watching him walk away and feeling much better than I had in days, despite the brandy.

* * *

Hawke paused again, listening to the crackling of the fireplace in her room. She wiggled a bit to sink herself further into the soft quilt on the top of her bed. Her fingers idly brushing against her lips as she closed her eyes and tried to recapture that evening. As usual, though, it left her more frustrated than ever. _What are we? _Her thoughts continued as she began to feel a bit petulant. _I could hardly say we were courting. We spend no time with Mother in the evenings, and if we were courting, it would be extremely scandalous for me to spend so many evenings alone with him in his bedchamber. _She again laughed out loud, realizing how ironic that was. All the scandal with none of the enjoyment. Despite things growing heated from time to time, as occasionally happened when they were alone together, nothing ever came of it but a lot of flirting and frustration. _Well at least on my part, who knows if he suffers as much as I do_.

Hawke sighed, kicking her legs up behind her and rubbing her calves together. She enjoyed the feel of her new, soft suede boots that she bought for wearing around the house. They rose up just below her knees and were a dark brown, and immensely comfortable. She had also purchased a robe to wear around the house that was various shades of burgundy. It was fancier than anything she had owned previously, despite being only a casual robe for wearing in the privacy of one's home – modest enough for company but not exactly appropriate for wearing to the tavern in the evenings. _Well, it was the fanciest thing I had ever owned until I let mother talk me into those gowns_. She grimaced, glancing at the wardrobe. She was absently running her finger on one of the satin ribbons that trimmed the neckline of her robe. It was her first night donning the garment, as she had been saving it and the boots until they moved. She didn't want the stench of Gamlen's hovel permeating her finery.

Hawke glanced down realizing there were two large splatters of ink on the page in front of her. She quickly grabbed a sheet of blotting paper from the bedside table and cleaned up the mess as best as she could before she continued scratching away with the quill.

* * *

I suppose I don't know what Fenris and I are, but I also suppose it doesn't really matter. I know we both love each other – though to what extent, I'm still not entirely sure. But it's as strong a love as I've felt for anyone in my family, and much more meaningful than I've felt for any other man – even John. And I know that Fenris and I understand each other. Even though we still argue as much as ever, we seem to be able to clear the air much sooner than we used to, and we always manage to fall back into our old routines, closer friends than ever. And I guess that will all have to be enough for now. Despite my frustrations, I think I'm okay with that. Wherever things are headed between us, I'm sure it will be worth the wait.

But enough about him for now. It's getting to be time to head out to the Chantry square for the Satinalia festivities. Now that we're nobility again, Mother has decided she wants to partake in the festivities – and I'm finally over John and feel that I can enjoy the holiday once again, myself. They apparently really do it up big here in Kirkwall, so I'm eager to see what's in store. Ah, Maker. Speaking of store, I still need to buy my mask for tonight. So, on that note, Journal (and Varric…), I apologize for the neglect as of late, but now that we are settling into our new life finally, I hope to give you all the attention you deserve!

* * *

Hawke scrawled the final words quickly and with a flourish. She placed a clean sheet of blotting paper over the page, flipped the cover back over the journal, and tucked it away in the drawer next to her. She carefully locked the drawer with a key that she wore on the chain around her neck – the chain it shared with the ring she'd gotten in from Fenris. It was a silly superstition, she knew, but she gave the key a quick kiss and dropped the chain back under her robe.

Just as she had hopped off the bed, there was a knock at the door.

"Messere?" It was Bodahn's voice. "Lady Leandra wishes to see you in her bedchamber."

Hawke rolled her eyes and muttered to herself, "Maker, mother. You couldn't just come get me yourself?" She spoke up more clearly to respond to the dwarf who was no doubt waiting nervously outside her door, "Thank you, Bodahn. I'll see her momentarily."

One evening, not long after Hawke had returned from the deep roads, Bodahn and Sandal had appeared on Gamlen's doorstep. She had been wary, unsure of how close they were to Bartrand or if they were involved in any of his scheming. Her fears were put to rest, though, as Bodahn shared with her Bartrand's poor treatment of them on the trip back from the thaig, and how he had shorted them on their share of the plunder.

"I won't forget my promise to you," Bodahn had said, as Leandra appeared behind Hawke, listening intently. "You saved Sandal's life, and I can never repay that debt. But I understand you will be moving into your family estate soon and I would like to volunteer Sandal and myself into your service once you do so. I can cook, clean, valet, whatever you need." He continued on and, despite Hawke's initial instance that it was unnecessary, she allowed her mother to talk her into agreeing on the terms that they provide room and board to the two dwarves. Bodahn assured her that they could easily make a living off of Sandal's enchanting, especially without the cost of lodging and meals. They shook hands on it, and Bodahn and Sandal took up residence as soon as the house belonged to the Hawkes again.

It was clear from Bodahn's actions just now that her mother intended to take full advantage of having a personal servant to wait on her, hand and foot. Hawke didn't complain though. She admittedly enjoyed the company of the two, despite their quirkiness. And Sandal, of course, offered to enchant any of her gear, free of charge, if ever she should find useful runes. _Well, Bodahn offered on his behalf. All Sandal really said was "Enchantment!" as he clapped his hands gleefully. _Hawke smiled to herself as she opened to the door to make the very short trip across the hall to her mother's room.

Hawke rapped softly on the intricately carved hardwood door of her mother's room.

"Yes?" a soft voice replied from inside.

"It's me, Mother." Hawke resisted any teasing. She wanted her mother to enjoy her new status as much as possible – she deserved some happiness for once.

"Oh, Marian! Come in."

Hawke opened the door and immediately cringed as she saw her mother bedecked in an elaborate gown made of silk and lace. It wasn't the gown itself that elicited such a reaction – it was the growing realization of what her mother had called her into her room for.

"Darling, you're not dressed yet!" her mother frowned, eyeing Hawke's robe and boots. "I still need time to do your hair and—"

"Mother," Hawke said in a warning tone, "I am not wearing one of my new gowns tonight. I'll wear dress clothes; don't worry. But we already agreed on a compromise. I will wear one of my new dresses to the feast tomorrow at the Keep, but the rest of the holiday week, I choose my own clothing."

Leandra raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, but took note of her daughter's stern expression.

"Very well," she sighed, conceding. "But I still insist on doing your hair and makeup tomorrow night."

Hawke groaned and dropped her forehead into her hand, "Fine mother." She said, her eyes closed tightly. She finally sighed and looked up at her again, "Is that all you wanted?"

"Yes, darling. Go make yourself ready, then. I plan on heading to the Chantry within the hour."

Hawke nodded quickly and hurried out of the room, closing the door rather too loudly behind her.

Returning to her room, Hawke retrieved a more favorable outfit from her wardrobe. She slipped out of her robe and removed her boots, and then pulled on her snug but sturdy leather pants – perfect for the chilly weather that now hit Kirkwall once the sun set. The deep brown leather was adorned with flat, round obsidian studs that encircled her upper thigh on both legs. She slipped her arms into her tunic, wrapping it across her chest and tying it on the side. She then tucked it carefully into the waist of her pants. The tunic was a brown linen, a few shades lighter than the pants, and fit snugly. The sleeves hugged her arms and were long enough to cover her hands, with a loop of fabric that she hooked onto her middle fingers. The cuffs and neckline, which was a modest 'V' once wrapped, were trimmed in gold satin.

Once the tunic was in place, she donned a leather vest that was also a deep brown, the darkest shade of the ensemble. It, too, was embellished with obsidian studs that matched the ones on her pants – these followed the collar and shoulder seams, as well as the seams running down her sides. The vest was snug overall, except the collar, which was deep and, because of the stiff leather, hung open and slightly away from her body with a very flattering effect, exposing more of the tunic underneath. The length of the vest fell nearly to her mid-thigh with slits on the sides to enable it to better fit her form, and the vest itself remained unfastened. She tugged her sleeves down again to ensure they weren't bunched under the vest at all and turned with her back facing the mirror. She twisted her neck as far as she could to look back at her favorite accent – what seemed to be purposeless embellishment hanging from the back of the neck of her vest was, in fact, a soft brown hood made for improving her stealth abilities. She had requested it specifically, knowing the direction events often took when she was out and about. She smiled grimly to herself.

Satisfied that everything was in place, Hawke sat at the trunk at the end of her bed and pulled on her boots. They matched the leather of the vest and buttoned up, instead of the usual laces, with ornate obsidian hooks. The boots folded down a few inches at the top, revealing her upper calf just below her knee. She wiggled her toes in the boots and then moved to sit at her vanity – a piece of furniture her mother had chosen, but one that Hawke had actually come to appreciate. Running her fingers through her hair, she noticed how long it had become. She still kept trimming it and maintaining some of the layers she enjoyed, but decided to let it grow out a bit. It now fell several inches past her shoulders, so she brushed it back in a loose, low tail, allowing the shorter layers to hang around her face, framing it in a way she rather liked. To keep her mother happy, she used a ribbon of golden velvet to hold her hair in place.

Hawke grabbed the final piece of her outfit – a wide sash made of the same fabric as the tunic – and stood in front of the full-length mirror again. She wrapped it several times around her hips adjusting it to a slightly different angle each time, and the tied it in a tight knot on her left side. The sash held the vest closed from her waist down. She twisted this way and that, admiring her reflection for a few moments. _I know Mother will tell me I don't look like a lady, but I don't really care. This suits me, and I much prefer it to her ridiculous Orlesian gowns. Anyway, this is dressy but still practical, in case anything happens – which it inevitably will, one of these days. _On that last thought, she grabbed her small knife from her vanity and tucked it into her boot, which had a pocket inside just for that purpose. As she had gone for the knife, she noticed one of her red handkerchiefs on the vanity as well. Hesitating for a second, Hawke decide to grab it and tie it loosely around her neck, tucking it under her vest and letting the triangle shape of the fabric cover the top of the tunic underneath. Quickly snuffing out the candles in the room, Hawke made her way downstairs to meet her mother.

"There you are!" Leandra huffed, tapping her healed shoe against the stone floor of the entryway. "Fashionably late is one thing but-" she stopped speaking and her jaw dropped once the light from the entryway torches fell on Hawke and her rogue-like ensemble.

"Maker's breath, Marian," she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Why do you insist on dressing like a man?"

"Really, Mother, I don't know many men who would dress quite like this," she glanced down and then smirked, "Anyway if they did, I would hardly think they would have the same, erm…_curves_ as I do." She crudely gestured toward her chest and hips as she wiggled her rear end a bit. Hawke laughed at her mother's shocked expression.

"Honestly!" But Leandra had nothing else to offer and instead spun on her heel, throwing her cloak over her shoulders and grabbing her feathered mask off of the bench next to her. She waited patiently as Bodahn opened the door for her.

"Goodnight, my ladies!" he pronounced a little too grandly as they stepped out under the awning and made their way onto the main thoroughfare. _This is already shaping up to be an interesting evening_. Hawke thought, amused.


	12. Chapter 12

The streets were already bustling with vendors and townsfolk dressed in all variety of finery and masks – from the absurd to the beautifully ornate. Hawke was again reminded of her need to obtain her own mask, and her promise that she would do so with Fenris before they met up with Varric, Merrill, Isabela, and Aveline at the Chantry. Anders said he had no interest in celebrating the holiday and declared his intention to spend his time sulking in his clinic (those were Hawke's words, though, not his own).

Hawke turned to tell her mother her plans, but saw that she was already making her way toward Lady Laurent – her new best friend – and some other noble women who were waving and smiling at her. _Well, I'm glad mother is pleased and has met people of her ilk at last. I know I will never live up to her expectations as Lady Hawke, but as long as she can find someone else to do all her…noble-y stuff with, I think we're both satisfied._

Hawke continued thinking on her mother's latest endeavors as she made the short trip to Fenris' mansion. As she approached his door, however, her thoughts switched to curiosity at what he might wear that evening. _I hope it's one of those silk shirts…_

Before she had a chance to knock on the door he was already opening it and started as he saw her standing there, her fist poised mid-air as she, too, nearly jumped. She quickly took a step back to give him room to step outside, giving him a quick once-over with her eyes. _Dammit. He's wearing his armor. At least it's one of the shiny new sets that he showed me – one of the several Danarius had left at the mansion._

"Hawke, I- almost didn't recognized you," he gave her an appraising look. "New armor?"

She laughed, "Not armor per se, but…" she waggled her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner as she reached back and flipped her hood up over her head, draping it loosely on her shoulders. She then tugged her scarf up over her face, covering her mouth and nose. "Hmmm? What do you think?" her voice was slightly muffled behind the fabric of the handkerchief.

Fenris let out a throaty laugh, "I think you look ready to ambush a caravan. Have our plans for this evening changed, then?"

She pulled the handkerchief back down and dropped the hood back again, laughing as well. "That does sound like fun, but I've honestly been looking forward to this evening for a few weeks now. We'll have to save the thieving for another night." She winked at him. "Now, shall we go find some masks so we can terrorize the residents of Kirkwall in anonymity?" Turning she began to walk toward the vendor stalls that were set up along the street back to the chantry. Fenris paused for a moment to watch her. It had been a while since he had seen her in such high spirits and he had to admit, it made her all the more attractive to him. He, too, had been looking forward to an evening out with her and the few individuals he now considered friends of a sort. But seeing Hawke back to her old self – the woman she had been before they had left for the Deep Roads – made him even more eager.

He shifted the weight of his sword to hang more comfortably on his back as he began to stride towards her, catching her up quickly. Without hesitating, he reached down for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, offering her a warm smile as she looked up at him a bit shyly, her cheeks a bit pink now.

_I don't know what we are, _he thought, unknowingly echoing her own thoughts from earlier that evening. _But I'm enjoying it._

* * *

"This one, Hawke," Fenris insisted for the third time, holding up a simple mask made of black leather that was designed to tie in the back and hold it in place tightly. It was just wide enough that it covered her eyebrows down to just above the tip of her nose and had two almond-shaped cutouts for her eyes.

"Not this one?" Hawke turned to face him, batting her eyes at him through a rather ostentatious mask that reminded him of a peacock, covered in purple and blue feathers of varying shades with flecks of gold surrounding the eyes.

"I was hoping to purchase that one for myself," he replied, dryly, eliciting another laugh out of her. "But seriously, Hawke, I don't want to enrage the dwarf. We should make our purchases and get moving."

"All right, all right," Hawke sighed resignedly. "But I'm picking out yours." She grabbed one that was very similar in style to hers, just a bit larger and in a deep burgundy leather rather than black. Fenris rolled his eyes, but was glad she had not opted for one of the feathery masks that seemed very popular with the nobility. They made their purchases and helped each other with their masks.

"I think we still look like we're going to rob a caravan," Hawke smiled slyly, "Albeit in style." She gave an exaggerated twirl and nearly collided with a nobleman who was walking past.

"Pardon me, messere," she stifled a laugh, but ended up snorting. The man gave her an unappreciative look through his own feathered mask as he continued walking without saying anything.

Rolling his eyes, Fenris grabbed her hand again and pulled her along through the crowded street toward the Chantry. As they drew near the square, lively music could be heard along with the din of conversations and laughter as the celebration was well underway.

"There you are, finally!" Isabela exclaimed as Hawke and Fenris approached the group. She was holding a large flagon of ale and held it up in the air in a salute. She was wearing a steel Orlesian mask that covered most of her face, exposing only her chin and mouth. Merrill was standing next to Isabela, looking around nervously, as she wasn't used to large crowds. Her mask was made of white silk with white feathers on the outside edges. Varric wore no mask, and Aveline was wearing her guard helmet.

"You guys need to get into the spirit of things," Hawke addressed the dwarf and the Guard Captain, crossing her arms. Aveline sighed and ignored her remark, continuing to watch the festivities, never quite off duty.

"Maybe after a few drinks you can talk me into a mask, but for now, this is as festive as I get," Varric retorted, eying a stand a few yards away where a woman stood, selling ale.

"I'll just be over there," Aveline said, motioning toward an empty table – one of many that had been set up for the evening. Isabela was now trying to talk Merrill into dancing as she dragged the poor elf closer to the band that was playing a jaunty tune. Varric, Fenris, and Hawke headed toward the ale vendor.

Hawke was refusing Varric's third offer of buying her a drink. She finally agreed on a compromise, "If you stop harassing me about the ale, I'll try one of your sodding nug sticks you keep raging on about." Varric raised an eyebrow at this and grinned eagerly.

"Deal."

Fenris gave Hawke a wary glance and she just shrugged. After Varric had purchased his beverage they made their way around the square until he found a food stand run by one of the Merchant's Guild members. Hawke had to admit, the smells coming from the stand were rather enticing. _I just need to stop imagining one of those adorable little creatures while I…eat…_ her complexion began to turn a bit green as she tried not to think about it.

"Order one for me, as well, dwarf. I will not be outdone by Hawke," Fenris spoke up with a mock competitive tone. Varric nearly danced with delight at the thought of having convinced two non-dwarves to try nug.

Stepping up to the food stand, Varric slammed his coin down, "Four roasted nug on a stick!" The dwarf running the stand handed each of them their fare and watched with curiosity as the human and the elf studied the food closely, hesitant to try it.

"Well it's not going to start dancing. Try it!" Varric rolled his eyes.

Hawke closed her eyes in an effort not to think about what a live nug looked like and carefully took a bite. After chewing for a second and letting the flavor fill her mouth, her eyes snapped open.

"Andraste's right buttcheek, but this is good!" she took another large bite. "Mmmmm…"

Varric laughed, "See what you've been missing out on all this time?"

Fenris had been watching Hawke, still holding his own stick a few inches away from his mouth. He was simultaneously distracted by the sight of her biting down on the tender meat, and curious about what it actually tasted like. Finally tearing his eyes away, he shrugged to himself and gave it a try.

"I suppose it's not bad," Fenris said after a moment, "But honestly, it just tastes like chicken to me."

"If I had a sovereign for every time someone said that…" Varric grumbled. "It tastes nothing like chicken. It's so much better!" Hawke laughed at his apparent passion about dwarven cuisine.

The three headed back to join the others, eating their food on the way. They spent the night in pleasant companionship, laughing and recounting stories of their adventures together. Isabela convinced Hawke to dance with her several times – insisting that Hawke had improved. Eventually the pirate was too drunk to stand up straight so she sat at the table, resting her head in her arms.

After some time, an acrobatic troupe had made their way to the area where Hawke and her companions had been seated. They watched in awe at the various acts the group performed, until Varric hopped up suddenly out of his chair and ran over to one of the members of the troupe. He had a short conversation with him, but he was waving his hands animatedly looking very excited.

"What on earth is Varric doing?" Hawke turned to the others. Fenris smiled slyly, as he had overheard enough of the conversation to gather what the dwarf was up to. Finally, the man that Varric had been speaking with came over to the table and stood in front of Hawke. He was brandishing three unlit torches and Hawke suddenly realized what was happening.

"Varric…" she raised her eyebrows at the dwarf who was now seated across from her.

"You owe us Hawke," he raised his mug to her. She glanced nervously at the others. Merrill and Aveline just looked confused, but Fenris avoided her eye contact for fear of bursting out laughing.

Hawke sighed in resignation and stood, loosening up her arms and neck. "If I start the Chantry on fire, it's on you, Varric." The dwarf just shrugged and watched her with a grin on his face. He already had his notebook out, hand poised to start sketching.

"And you'd better make me look good," she added, nodding her head toward his notebook.

"Quit stalling, Hawke."

She turned to the acrobat who was now lighting the torches with a flint. He handed them to her as she walked a few paces from the tables and turned to face the crowd that was now forming. _Maker, don't let me die, _she thought wryly. Testing the weight of the now flaming torches in her hands she tossed them up one by one in a slow steady juggle. Thankfully, it was hard to see the gazes of her friends with the blinding torchlight in front of her and the dark backdrop of night. After she fell into a good rhythm, she picked up the pace a bit.

The crowd continued to grow around her and the musicians had switched to a tune that kept time with her steady pace. As she grew more comfortable, she began adding some flourishes to her routine, crossing her hands and catching the opposite torches. Tossing them slightly behind her and reaching with her opposite arm behind her back. Juggling two torches in one hand and one in the other. _I guess this is one of those things you don't forget how to do, _she told herself, her confidence growing. _It's all coming back to me, even though it's been several years since I've done this with torches._

The crowd cheered as she tossed the torches up higher and added a spin before catching them and resuming the juggling. She saw the acrobat from earlier out of the corner of her eye, waving a fourth torch at her with a grin on his face. Pursing her lips and swallowing her nerves, Hawke gave him a quick nod. After timing it, the man tossed the torch into the fray so she was now juggling all four of them. The crowd grew louder. She smiled and motioned with her head at the other juggler. He caught her meaning and moved to stand a few feet across from her, facing her. She carefully began tossing the torches toward him, and he back to her as the crowd cheered loudly. Hawke's face grew flush with embarrassment but she continued on. After several minutes of this, Hawke was back to juggling all four torches on her own.

Her confidence surging even more, Hawke decided to try something else. She blew out two of the torches as they passed in front of her face, tossing them to the side as she was juggling. Now down to two torches she caught one in each hand and began spinning them as she so often did with her daggers. She occasionally tossed one or both in the air, still spinning, before catching them, adding in some twirls and behind-the-back catches. She was beginning to sweat but was too caught up in the excitement to stop. She smoothly switched between spinning one above her head and the other to her side, and back again. Then she was twirling one in front while the she spun the other behind her. The pace grew dizzying as she tried to focus and keep in time with the ever-increasing tempo of the music.

In her mind, she was back on the road with her family; she and her father providing similar entertainment to her mother and siblings. She remembered many of the routines they had worked out together and it brought a smile to her face. She continued spinning and tossing and twirling the torches as her body moved fluidly in time to the music. She bent backward, ducking under the torches as she brought them across her chest and over her head, then bent forward as she spun them behind her, over her back. Moving and twisting and turning, Hawke had the torches spinning so they were a whirl of fire moving around her lithe body. She was caught up in the rhythm of it, unaware of the passage of time or the excited crowd surrounding her.

Hawke began to grow breathless and decided to end with a bang. She crouched as she began flipping the torches up in the air, one in each hand. Once she felt grounded enough and that she could gain proper momentum, she pressed down with all her strength and threw herself into a backflip, tossing both torches high up into the air as she did so. The crowd gasped and grew silent as she landed in a crouch, one leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent underneath her, her knee nearly touching the ground. Reaching out both her hands, she deftly caught both torches, swiftly bringing them to her face and blowing them both out with one heaving breath.

The crowd roared, but she couldn't see as she was momentarily blinded by the loss of the bright firelight. She merely took a quick bow and turned to where she knew the acrobat was standing, handing him the torches. She was panting and blushing as the man took her hand in both of his, shaking it firmly, grinning at her. Slowly regaining her vision, she made her way shyly back to her waiting friends, strangely nervous about the show she just gave.

Looking up at her friends she noticed they were all staring at her, mouths agape – except Merrill who was grinning and clapping her hands excitedly. Even Isabela had sat up again to watch the display.

"Maker's breath, Hawke. That was amazing." Varric finally spoke up, his hand frozen, clutching his pencil above the open journal in front of him. Hawke noticed he hadn't actually sketched anything.

Throwing herself back in her chair, intentionally avoiding Fenris' gaze, Hawke grabbed up the mug of water she had been drinking and chugged it down. Varric, Merrill, and Aveline were now talking animatedly as Varric finally began sketching Hawke juggling torches.

"I have to admit," Fenris finally spoke up next to her, "When you had previously mentioned juggling torches, I thought you were joking. That was…impressive." She finally turned her head to meet his gaze, her face now crimson, though she hoped he didn't notice in the dim light of the Chantry square.

"Just one of the things my father taught me growing up," she tried to sound dismissive but her voice quavered with nervousness. The expression on his face caused her to shift uncomfortably in her seat. He had a hint of his infamous determination in his eyes which made her heart beat wildly.

"Surely with the time you spent in Antiva, you've seen plenty of acrobats and jugglers far more impressive," she tried changing the subject. Fenris didn't respond, his gaze remained as steady and intense as ever. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Hawke cleared her throat and announced that she was going to get some more water. She grabbed her mug and hurried to a nearby servant who was walking around with a bucket of water and a ladle.

By the time Hawke returned, Fenris and Aveline were several yards from the table, caught up in a discussion with a blade salesman from Orlais. Relieved, Hawke plopped back down in her seat next to Merrill and Isabela. Varric was still sketching away and the two women were now, rather drunkenly, chatting about Merrill's hair of all things.

"I think I might try the braid thing," Isabela was saying, holding one of the elf's own braids in between her fingers, staring closely at it.

"I could show you!" Merrill responded excitedly. Isabela laughed and pushed the braid back behind Merrill's ear. As she did so, her hand brushed up against the tip of the mage's ear and Merrill let out a startled squeak as her faced began to turn red. Isabela burst out laughing at the girl's reaction.

"Sorry, kitten," the pirate apologized, clearly amused by Merrill's reaction.

Hawke was rather confused, "Did I miss something?"

"I accidentally brushed her ear with my hand."

"I don't understand."

Isabella raised an eyebrow, "You know about elves' ears, surely."

Feeling that she was missing something rather important, Hawke cleared her throat uncomfortably and gave Merrill a pleading look.

"Our ears, uhm," Merrill looked down, clearly embarrassed. "They're…very sensitive."

"That's one way of putting it," Isabela chuckled, taking another swig of ale.

Suddenly, Hawke realized what she meant. _Oh, Maker, _she grimaced. _Their ears are…well, an erogenous zone. _Her face was turning crimson yet again that evening as she recalled several occasions on which she had intentionally touched Fenris' ears. _No wonder he reacted the way he did the first time I touched them, telling him they were beautiful. I can't believe he didn't tell me! Surely he must know that I was clueless. Oh Andraste's nipples, I _hope_ he knew I was clueless. Surely he wouldn't…_ She swallowed hard as the thought crossed her mind that maybe he preferred not telling her. _Well then, two can play that game_. A smile crept across Hawke's face as the blush faded and she tucked away her new knowledge for future use.


End file.
